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“THE 


MAJESTIC TOWER OF ST. MARK’S 

Page 37. 










Archdeacon Prettyman 
in Politics 

By 

NORMA B. HARDIN 

»> 



THE STRATFORD COMPANY 
Publishers 

Boston, Massachusetts 




Copyright, 1921 

The STRATFORD CO., Publisher* 
Boston, Mass. 



SEP 



The Alpine Press, Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 


0)CI.A622888 

-v* I 


‘Co My Husband 


WHOSE FAITH IN THE PINAL TRIUMPH OF BROTHERLY 
LOVE OVER BIGOTRY AND RITUALISM IN THE CHURCH 
HAS WON MY SYMPATHY AND DEVOTION, FOR 
I KNOW IT IS FOUNDED ON A ROCK. 


3^orma B. Hardin 


The Rectory, Plymouth, Wis 
April, 1921. 


t 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 


PAGE 

I 

The Winner of Souls . 

. 1 

II 

Things Move in the Diocese . 

. 11 

III 

Two Clerics Disagree . 

. 25 

IV 

A Man in the Making . 

. 31 

Y 

Dolittle Does Much 

. 39 

VI 

Smooth a Willing Tool 

. 47 

VII 

Clerical Strategy . . . . 

. 55 

VIII 

Cupid Scored a Point . 

. 64 

IX 

Grumble and the Grumblers . 

. 72 

X 

The Water Nymph 

. 79 

XI 

The Lonesome Doctor . 

. 86 

XII 

The Archdeacon Prevails 

. 93 

XIII 

A Veteran Plotter 

. 101 

XIV 

Bottomly Loses His Crown . 

. 109 

XV 

An Engagement Ring . 

. 117 

XVI 

Petty Politics . . . . 

. 124 

XVII 

The Special Convention 

. 133 

XVIII 

Death of a Great Churchman 

. 142 

XIX 

The Dedication at Sheridan . 

. 151 

XX 

Persecution at Rosedale 

. 160 

XXI 

Interesting Chitchat 

. 171 

XXII 

The Annual Convention 

. 180 

XXIII 

Truth Will Prevail 

. 190 

XXIV 

Wedding Bells . . . . 

. 200 

XXV 

The Exodus . . 

. 209 


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ILLUSTRATIONS 


‘The Majestic Tower of St. 

Mark’s.” . . (Page 37) Frontispiece'^ 

‘What a Water Lily!” Exclaimed the 

Divine Facing Page 81*^ 

‘I Won’t Let Anybody Knock My Eyes 

Out,” He Yelled. . . Facing Page 109 

‘What You All Want?” . . Pacing Page 205"^ 



CHAPTER I 


THE WINNER OF SOULS 

Great men sometimes rise to fame from humble 
beginnings and dazzle mankind with their splendid 
talents. On the banks of a small stream in the village 
of Crownfield situated in eastern New York, a man 
battled with fate and ultimately overcame, for he was 
the Ven. Percy Prettyman, curate at that time of the 
village tabernacle. Laughing at the tin can social 
wags of the rural community, the bally inconvenience 
of a meagre stipend, the petty quarreling of his pro- 
fessional brethren, he was, on account of his pep and 
social graces appointed Archdeacon of Smithfield, the 
See city in one of the conservative dioceses of New 
England. 

Prettyman was a man possessing influence with the 
weaker sex, and gathered a small following among the 
younger clerics hunting for good jobs. Being of a 
girl-like temperament since childhood he preferred to 
associate with them entirely — they used nice perfume 
and the men did not. His aesthetic taste required a 
gorgeous ritual in the services of the Church and it 
made him as mad as a wood-tick whenever the Dean 
or good Bishop reminded him that he was going too 
far. Then too he preferred having the assistance of 
Mrs. Carrie Cash, whose husband was killed in France, 
[I] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


to hover about him in the vestry to help him put on his 
vestments. 

One day he nearly had a duck-fit. The girls of St. 
Faith ’s Guild headed by Mrs. Cash presented him with 
a gold embroidered cope, a vestment prohibited in the 
services of the Church. The congregation of the Cathe- 
dral numbered more than two thousand souls; its 
vested choir of seventy four voices under the faithful 
training of Electum Crawshay achieved prestige ; and 
yet, while living in the shadows of St. Mark’s, and 
frequently taking part in the services when not out on 
the field, the men folks did not take him seriously, 
neither did they fully appreciate his real worth. At 
times this peeved him. He would gather in two or 
three unemployed curates, retire to the big study of 
his quarters in the parish house and relate in glowing 
terms how expert he was in celebrating the Protestant 
“mass” according to the unauthorized Prayer-book of 
the Sixth Edward. This he claimed was always beau- 
tified with the assistance of red-headed servers, in- 
cense and gregorian music. 

While curate at Crownfield Dr. Crabbit, the bishop 
of the diocese, had made his annual visitation accom- 
panied by a charming girl. They arrived late and the 
organ had begun the morning voluntary ; his memory 
was faultless, he glanced in her direction several times 
during the reading of the Epistle — a lass of sweet 
seventeen, slim as a fishing rod, rich golden braids 
hanging over each shoulder and crowning her dear 
head with a touch of glory, large tender eyes, artless 
[ 2 ] 


THE WINNER OF SOULS 


and innocent; she seemed like a sweet flower resting 
in serene tranquillity and so out of place amid the in- 
cense and tinkle of altar hells. Percy’s knees trembled 
and he could hear his heart beat with a rapid “Tat, 
pat, pat.” The service proceeded and she watched 
him wonder-eyed, fascinated and surprised perhaps, 
as he bowed and sang in rapid mumbles the Gospel of 
the day. Soon a great calm came over the congrega- 
tion for the scholar-bishop of famous Smithfleld was 
preaching an eloquent sermon on “Brotherly Love.” 
After that memorable service he had never seen the 
girl again and remembered one thing well, she had 
returned into the Church and securing her forgotten 
fan, had smiled at him for a second, — then ran out on 
a dainty pair of feet. The bishop seemed amused that 
morning and would not introduce his charge to the 
trembling curate. For all he knew a descendant of a 
Viking king had passed out of his life forever. 

That was about six or seven years ago. Not long 
after that he had been called to the rectorship of St. 
Ann’s, a fashionable parish notable for fine clothes, 
superficial piety and a small salary for their rector, 
he grew sick of the bally place and complained to the 
bishop who appointed him the Archdeacon of Smith- 
field — none of the prominent men desired the position. 

Percy was handsome or not. It depended how you 
sized him up and then too people’s tastes differ. His 
body was slender, eyes were of a blue similar to the 
color of a faded background in our national emblem, 
and his skin was very white except when sun-burned ; 

[ 3 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


his hands were rather soft and his jaw weak at the 
lower edge. Overlooking his failings and human 
limitations, he was, all things being considered, an 
adorable man ; in social and religious functions he made 
a perfect master of ceremonies, no gathering being 
complete without him. In the beginning of his duties 
at Smithfield, he grew lonely in his quarters, but as 
time passed he became accustomed to it ; then too, the 
absence of the cares of parish life proved a blessing to 
his shattered nerves; yes, he was attractive for when 
he mingled with the common herd the suggestion of a 
smile lingered upon his thin lips. No one could help 
but admire the deep interest he always manifested in 
the financial well being of the denomination. Grad- 
ually he became acquainted with a few people outside 
of Smithfield especially those who fed him well wher- 
ever he made his regular visits. And to all of these 
virtues he imported into the diocese something foreign 
to her glorious traditions ; a personal despotism in the 
exercise of which those unfortunate lay-workers and 
curates must bow and scrape to him or suffer penalties. 
Of course he was a lamb whenever the bishop was 
about. 

Prettyman was very much pleased with his pros- 
pects. In the fulness of time the Bishop would die 
peacefully, and after a great funeral, he would pro- 
bably be chosen to preside over this old-fashioned 
diocese with its twenty thousand members ; a salary of 
ten thousand bally rocks a year with quarters was not 
to be sneezed at and besides he could discreetly ‘ lord it 

[ 4 ] 


THE WINNER OP SOULS 


over God’s heritage’ and snub Christians of other 
faiths all of his life — the job was a permanent sine- 
cure he reasoned. The glory of the pickings of such a 
berth came over him in the twinkle of an eye. In a 
moment he made a firm resolution. He would become 
eventually bishop of the diocese and teach those Low 
Churchmen how a diocese should be ruled. One day 
he met the Rev. Archibald Pott a retired minister, in 
the reception room of the Antler’s Hotel. Pott finally 
said: 

“Bishop Crabbit is sinking fast and we must look 
around for his successor. We supporters of the High 
Church clique cannot afford to stand aside and see 
another Prayer-book Churchman carry away the 
honors. The Rev. Fletcher Lament D. D. rector of 
Warrentown, is a champion of the Bible and Prayer- 
book, enjoying the leadership of nearly half of the 
clergy and laity. With your winning ways and grow- 
ing popularity, you might stand some chance in piling 
up a majority ; while travelling among the people sow 
a little discreet seed and it will create a favorable” — 
Then Pott cackled exposing a hideous tooth and Percy 
thought over the matter seriously. 

The meeting with Archibald in the Antlers made a 
great impression on the mind of the Archdeacon. The 
social advantages and ready cash connected with the 
episcopate spoke golden words to him. He was in a 
contented frame of mind upon returning to his den. 
Lighting his briar pipe, he sat down in an old rocker 
before a cheerful fire crackling on the grate ; he gazed 

[ 5 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


long and earnestly into its bright flames settling down 
comfortably in a preoccupied state of mind. After all, 
this general missionary was prosaic, and unappreci- 
ated by the small congregation. One must travel for 
days among indifferent people and fight bed-bugs in 
the spare room of farm-houses; whenever he was 
away he missed Mrs. Cash, the quarreling in the Guild, 
and the spiritual tonic of the Thursday evening poker 
parties. Not long ago he had been invited to unite 
with the Old Rose Club, the large men’s club of St. 
Mark’s. He attended one meeting and that was the 
last for him ; the terrrific fumigation in the smoking 
room affected the delicate membrane of his classic 
throat, whereas, the chatter and perfumed sociability 
of Mrs. Cash and the girls of the Junior Guild held 
him in a sort of trance. He no longer cared much for 
the Archdeaconship yet retained two redeeming vir- 
tues — he loved to mumble at “mass?” and secure his 
cheque on pay day. Once safely “dug in” in the 
Bishop’s office, his opportunities for usefulness would 
be unlimited, and it was as plain as a nose on a pig’s 
face — God had a great work for His anointed — ^Percy 
of course. 

Realizing the craftiness of the Prayer-book Church- 
men, Prettyman moved about the diocese with wonder- 
ful caution, never mentioning the proximity of the 
Episcopal election. He would take in the situation 
quietly and at the same time feel the pulse of this 
great group of clergy and laity. The more he visited 
the various parishes the more he felt sure of a large 

[ 6 ] 


THE WINNER OP SOULS 

number of votes in the coming election of an assistant 
bishop. He heard all sorts of rumors and received 
many confidences from the brethren but never in a 
single instance did Percy ask directly for information. 
He was too foxy for that and employed the delicate 
art of getting his companions to do all of the talking. 

The Archdeacon scratched his head slowly. 

Lamont really had Percy’s goat and the latter was 
certainly aware of it. The rector of Warrentown had 
risen to great power and infiuence since his ordination 
ten years ago. Beginning as a poor student eighteen 
years back, he fought his way step by step until he 
was called by many, “our peerless leader.” Being 
of broad vision, a manly personality, and a fine 
preacher, he was easily the strongest character in that 
part of the entire country. Being a thorough student 
of Church affairs he became a bitter opponent of the 
High Church clique in all of their lying attempts to 
destroy and undermine a Protestant Church with an 
Episcopal government. Whenever the “Clique” had 
a chance they brought about all sorts of petty persecu- 
tion. All this did not even ruffle the learned doctor 
in any manner whatsoever. The lying yellow hypo- 
crites sought to steal away his control over the music 
and arrangement of spiritual affairs in his parish. He 
waited and watched them gradually force High 
Churchmen over his head into every available position 
in his parish. They were playing with a lion and did 
not have the brains to see their approaching fall. One 
day he quietly dismissed every member of the mean 

[ 7 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


disloyal “clique’’ just three days before they planned 
to kick him out into the gutter. There were eight mem- 
bers of the “clique” at Warren town and four hundred 
Church-people. There was a roar of hate and morti- 
fication from the ousted despots but the doctor was too 
busy to pay any attention to such rot anyway. 

Rev. Timothy Crabbit, the bishop’s son had indi- 
cated at a recent diocesan meeting, that he was avail- 
able for the assistant Bishopric as a successor to his 
beloved father. While this young man was known as 
the bishop ’s pet it was felt by his faithful friends that 
he had not a chance in the wide world to be elected. 
Since receiving orders, he assisted at the Cathedral 
when he felt like it and the Dean hated to complain as 
the old bishop might get peeved. When not asleep, 
Timothy stayed in bed most of the time, he enjoyed 
snubbing the two curates who were poor in the things 
of this world, but rich in the spiritual graces of the 
Lord; in this lazy manner of living he had grown 
opulent and fat. 

In his seminary days he was considered, by his 
professors and class-mates, a liberal minded gentle- 
man who in time could step into the shoes of his 
distinguished father; since leaving the classic atmos- 
phere of a renowned'School he had grown into a nar- 
row-minded bigot. Bishop Crabbit denounced him 
privately on more than one occasion but it did not 
convince the young “lounge lizard” at all. 

Things moved along in the diocese as usual and the 
Archdeacon planned how he could roll up enough votes 

[ 8 ] 


THE WINNER OF SOULS 


to get elected. Some things needed reforming and 
he would attend to such matters later. 

First and foremost, Lamont the ‘‘peerless leader” 
must be branded and hounded until he would leave 
the diocese. For this job of disloyal sedition he could 
depend on the services of the Bottomly boys, Miss 
Wooley, William Yellowboy, Miss Blackie and the Rt. 
Rev. Foxville O’Grady D. D. High Church bishop of 
Rosemont. These people were honest ritualitsts and 
had a right to their belief so they said. But one thing 
puzzled Percy very much. He had never heard of a 
fight or quarrel without finding out later that one or 
more of the dirty “clique” started it. This worried 
the Archdeacon. His own common sense informed 
him that he was about to enlist the services of a bunch 
of tricksters and yet he did not see how to cut loose 
from them forever. Here he made a fatal mistake. 

Young Crabbit was not considered a dangerous 
rival for he was too young to be intrusted with heavy 
responsibilities, and besides, he was a spoiled child. 

Dr. Crabbit had been in poor health for some time 
and several High Churchmen had crept into several 
positions of responsibility. As anyone would expect 
the diocesan machinery was sorely crippled and the 
financial conditions became deplorable. Secretly 
these wolves in the fold hated the great bishop and 
Churchman ; openly they appeared to serve his inter- 
ests and for a time — for a brief spell, they actually 
got away with it. If he could only put one over the 
petty leaders and secure their support, then he would 

[ 9 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


be well fixed for the rest of his dear life. One thing 
fretted Percy more than anything else, — how could he 
bring about this happy event? He would sit on the 
throne if all went well, then — laus Deo ! 

It was in contemplation of all these facts and fan- 
cies that an inspiration came to the Archdeacon. He 
made up his mind to try to win the election as a High 
Churchman; if they were not responsive, then he 
would turn traitor to them and fight under the banner 
of the great mass of Prayer-book Churchmen. A smile 
lit up the weak mouth and crafty eyes; Rover, his 
giant St. Bernard lay down between him and the dy- 
ing embers, moved about uneasily, rose up and stood 
looking into his master’s face with solemn eyes. 

“I’ll need your help old boy,” said Percy patting 
his big head, “and if you can follow me. I’ll be the 
next ‘ Lord of the heritage ’ by bally ! ’ ” 

Percy jumped to his feet with a leap of enthusiam. 
“Gr-uf-row-r” roared the giant with an angry look. 
The parson had- stepped upon his big toe. 


[ 10 ] 


CHAPTER II 


THINGS MOVE IN THE DIOCESE 

One day the Yen. Percy M. Prettyman S. T. B. 
travelled to the city of Warren town where Lament 
lived and inquired for him at the rectory. George 
Dolittle B. D., his curate and private secretary, in- 
formed him that the rector was away and would not 
return for two weeks, in case trout fishing was good up 
in the mountain streams. The two men left and 
walked over to the parish office, and sat down for a 
chat. The Archdeacon had heard of Lamont’s curate 
through various channels of information, and felt dis- 
appointed in his appearance ; he had pictured him to 
be a small, sallow-fac6d, spindle-legged, priestly in- 
dividual — a sort of curate type, but beheld instead, a 
tall, agreeable, neat looking person, with a pair of 
piercing gray eyes stuck in front of a splendid head. 
It just happened at that moment that Dolittle was 
making a secret inventory of the important Arch- 
deacon, and the latter felt somewhere within the 
cells of his cranium, that he was being subjected to 
the polished scrutiny of an Inquisitor General. 

Surely, the curate knew him well — ^Archdeacon of 
the diocese ; fact was, his picture had recently been seen 
in the Smithfield Churchman, and the doctor had 
spoken about his work very kindly on several occasions. 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


As the doctor left him in charge, if the Venerable 
would proceed, he would interest himself in what he 
had to say. 

Prettyman began to talk of the deplorable condi- 
tions in the diocese while the clever curate listened — 
talked with a frank directness that charmed and in- 
spired. 

Prettyman stated the fact that he was not anxious 
to be elevated to the ‘Episcopal Bench’ as it carried 
with it some very heavy duties ; his close friends had 
insisted on his entrance into the race and out of 
politeness to their wishes had consented to run. J oined 
to this was the modest mention that his friends had 
pledged their votes and would back him to the limit. 
If brother Dolittle would vote for him he should have 
the Archdeaconship after the election and consecra- 
tion. 

“Are you a ritualist and High Churchman?” 
George wanted to know and somehow his eyes seemed 
to bore dainty holes through the veneer of the schem- 
ing ecclesiastic sitting in the light across from him. 

Yes, I am and I am proud of it.” 

‘ ‘ If you are elected what will you do with all of our 
loyal Prayer-book Churchmen?” 

“ITl attend to that matter later don’t you know,” 
replied Percy. 

“Wouldn’t it be wise to attend to it before?” 

“No, I’ll not make any pre-election promises other 
than promising to rule for the greater glory of God. ’ ’ 

“ I do not believe that the brethren would be satisfied 


[ 12 ] 


THINGS MOVE IN THE DIOCESE 


with your pledge. It is too vague and could be warped 
to fit any school of thought in the church. ’ ’ 

“ITl promise to stand by you Churchmen,’’ cried 
Percy. 

^‘How can you stand by the Prayer-book when you 
said a short time ago that you were proud of being a 
High Church ritualist — a clique delighting to muti- 
late and destroy the glorious heritage of the human 
race ? ’ ’ 

“I’ll appoint you Archdeacon if you will give me 
your vote,” parried Percy, who was becoming angry. 

“If you became bishop would you treat the people 
of the Church and the High Church clique equal ? ’ ’ 

“Yes in every instance.” 

‘ ‘ So you would give two hundred ritualists as much 
liberty in breaking church laws as you would give 
nineteen thousand and eight hundred members of the 
Church in following the Bible and Common Prayer. 
Keally, with regard to justice and fairness you would 
make a peach of a bishop!” George was so blamed 
polite that Percy just couldn’t get mad. 

‘ ‘ I think that you are unjust, ’ ’ said Prettyman. 

“Probably so,” said Dolittle, “but according to my 
old-fashioned logic, a man cannot serve two masters^ — 
invariably he will love the one and skin the hide off 
the other.” Then he added “Do you want to be a 
bishop real bad ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, for I am cut out for that sort of office. God 
has surely called me,” the Venerable confessed. 

“Are you interested in saving souls?” 

[ 13 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“Yes, if I can get them to attend “mass’^ and con- 
fess to me.’^ 

“Do you like people generally?” 

‘ ‘ I am very fond of the ladies, especially the younger 
dames. ’ ’ 

“Do you preach the Gospel of Christ?” cut in 
another crisp interrogation. 

“No: the people dislike it so I have gone in for lec- 
tures, the ‘mass,’ lighter phases of church history 
and socialism. ’ ’ 

“Are you on friendly terms with the pastors of 
your field who are connected with other faiths ? ’ ’ 

“No sir and don’t you forget it!” Percy was mad 
now. 

“Do you regard ministers of other faiths as your 
equals before the Lord ? ’ ’ 

“Indeed I do not.” 

“Why?” George smiled. 

‘ ‘ Because they have not been ordained by an Apos- 
tolic bishop who traces his pedigree back to the twelve 
Apostles. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Do you regard them as Christians ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, Christians living in sin.” Percy was white 
with heat and hate but those gray orbs of the curate 
kept him from bursting. 

“Why in sin?” George coaxed. “They have been 
buried with Christ in baptism in the name of the 
blessed Trinity. What more could they do ? ” 

“They broke away from the Church and erected a 
Church of their own.” 


THINGS MOVE IN THE DIOCESE 


“So did our forefathers break away and organize a 
reformed church in England/’ replied Dolittle. 

“Foxville O’Gray says it is not so and he ought to 
know. ’ ’ 

“I hear that you are an expert in saying “mass”. 

“Yes, I can celebrate in twenty-two minutes and do 
so according to the holy rubrics of the Edwardine 
Prayer-book ’ ’. 

‘ ‘ I am shocked at your statement Archdeacon. The 
rubrics of the book of the Sixth Edward have nothing 
to do with us to-day. The great men of England re- 
jected it and put forth a Prayer-book more suited to 
the needs of the awakening race. Some of the pious di- 
vines in Germany also made contributions to our com- 
mon prayer. Our fathers in 1789 adopted the present 
book and we thank God that is very much like that of 
our venerable mother. You want to become a trusted, 
respected bishop in Episcopal orders, according to the 
rules of the Ordinal ; how in the world can you expect 
us to elect you when you take a delight before the elec- 
tion, in snubbing ministers of other names and in 
trampling under foot our sacred rubrics and customs 
our forbears gleaned from the rubbish of a miserable 
past?” Those gray eyes drilled through the pale, 
chalky face of the humbled personage. 

‘ ‘ Suppose Dr. Lament and I should help elect you. 
After your consecration suppose that he should die 
suddenly. What sort of a clergyman would you try 
to place at our church in Warrentown?” Dolittle kept 
hot on his trail. 


[ 15 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“111 tell you in confidence George/’ 

“Proceed.” 

“I would appoint Timothy Crabbit.” 

“I thought so.” 

“Why?” 

‘ ‘ Because he would be so thankful to receive such a 
call that you could humbug him into putting on an 
imitation ritual of the tenth century and soon drive 
away several hundred communicants. You would make 
a mess in Zion if you could manage to get elected, by 
gad!” 

“You need not think that your high-brow Lamont 
could ever be elected George 1 ’ ’ 

“Why?” 

“Believe me I am positive of it!” 

“Shoot!” 

“Well listen, I’ve found out something about 
Lamont. There is considerable opposition towards him 
out in the diocese, since he has advised women to wear 
their dresses at least below their knees, warned against 
whiskey, gambling at the races, white slavery, and im- 
morality in general; we live in changing times and 
Lamont made a mistake in speaking so darned plain 
about it. Of course you know Lamont is right but 
some women resent having a Doctor of Divinity tell- 
ing them to dress decent when they have a right to 
go nearly naked in a free country. Mrs. Cash said 
yesterday that she saw no harm in wearing a pretty 
street dress several inches above the knees if nice 
lisle stockings were worn and the pantelettes cunningly 


THINGS MOVE IN THE DIOCESE 


concealed. She ought to know more about such mat- 
ters than a retired “bach’’ like the well-meaning 
doctor. Then too the owner of the race track contri- 
buted a thousand dollars to Lamont’s missionary purse 
last fall and feels that he ought to refrain from making 
hasty remarks which might hurt business. Georgette 
the owner of the joints strung along the railroad in 
various towns for the seduction of our boys and girls 
argues that sin and vice will always be with us and 
that inasmuch as she always attended church and 
supported it, she feels indignant over the doctor’s 
terrific sermons. Lamont ought to be our next bishop 
George but he has dug his own political grave.” 
Prettyman finished and looked triumphantly at Do- 
little who said : 

“Well what about it ? ” 

“You’ll see this fall old man!” replied Percy with 
a wise look. 

Then Prettyman left and George was glad of it. 

‘ ‘ I wonder if that ass expects to become a bishop ? 
My eye 1 He could not begin to handle things 1” Then 
George laughed until the tears came. There was a 
knock on the study door. Dolittle combed his hair in 
a jiffy and in a quiet dignified manner opened the 
door. Miss Casey Catchum, daughter of a retired 
merchant stood on the threshold. She was a faded 
beauty having passed the thirty-fifth milestone and 
twelve years back had kept company with Dr. Puller, 
who left town suddenly and settled in a dentist’s office 
over in Smithfield. Casey never got over it so folks 

[ 17 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


said but no one really knew as gossip is generally un- 
reliable. As the years passed she grew more proficient 
in hiding the ravages of time with toilet water and face 
daubing. So as a result, if you did not look her over 
ver}^ critically she might pass for a fair looker. She 
was rather intelligent having received the B. S. degree 
from Snobb University, and being a lifelong member 
of Lamont’s church, she planned to snare the unsus- 
pecting curate, especially since her dad, who was on the 
vestry, assumed that Dolittle would succeed Lament 
some day. 

‘‘Come in and be seated Miss Catchum,” murmured 
the clergyman kindly. 

“Your are so kind,” she smiled walking over and 
sitting down in a roomy rocker. Her hair was a faded 
blonde in color but her beautiful straw hat with its 
yellow band helped matters. She wore a lovely 
white silk dress and attached to her belt hung a bou- 
quet of roses on the left side of the waist. Her skirt 
was proper enough as it was only two inches above 
the knee cap. 

She wore pretty white lisle stockings and a pair of 
slippers to match but the largeness of her feet made 
George real angry. He preferred little ones. She had 
inherited hers from her father’s side of the house and 
there was no help for it. It looked good to see her 
smile exhibiting a set of milk-white teeth, thanks to 
the science of dentistry. The loving parent had paid 
a thousand “iron men” to install a natural set in the 
head of his young offspring. 


THINGS MOVE IN THE DIOCESE 


“You must come over to dine with us George.” 

“When would you like to have me?” 

“Why this evening at seven. Don’t fail as mamma 
has prepared for you. ’ ’ 

“Thank you Miss Catchum.” 

‘ ‘ My, I have been down town and have forgotten to 
purchase some flowers mother wants. ’ ’ 

“Shall I ring up Heartsease Floral Company?” 
he replied politely. 

“No, suppose we walk down and then it will be 
time for supper.” 

‘ ‘ Ting, ling, r-r-r-bing ! ’ ’ rattled the phone. 

“Hello!” 

‘ ‘ Is you de parson ? ’ ’ came a thick voice. 

“Yes sir!” 

“Ah wants to git married to my black woman 
right away boss!” 

“All right come along.” George hung up . Turning 
to his guest he added: “I am sorry but I have a 
wedding in a few minutes. ’ ’ 

“I’ll wait,” she said crossing her legs and taking 
up a copy of one of the latest works on parish pro- 
blems. 

In a few minutes a couple of niggers ambled into 
the room and handed Dolittle a marriage license. 

‘ ‘ Have you ever been married before ? ’ ’ 

“Yas sah,” replied Mose, shifting his feet. 

‘ ‘ Is your wife dead ? ” 

“Ah don’t know suh!” beads of sweat oozed out on 
the black glistening brow. 

[ 19 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“Did you divorce her?’’ 

“Yassuh!” 

‘ ‘ Did Judge Tank handle your case ? ’ ’ 

“Naw suh! Ah divorced her myself boss.” 

“Do you belong to our Church?” 

“Yah suh, a’m the fust nigger to jine de church on 
de East side!” 

“Do you wish to remain in the church in good 
standing ? ’ ’ 

“Yasboss!” 

“Then keep away from this woman until you get 
a divorce. By the way why did you drive her away ? ’ ’ 

“She wuz runnin’ with a pack of niggers and ah 
won’t ’low it I” 

“All right Mose. Keep away from this nigger, go 
to church and save your money,” advised George as 
the pair left the parish house. 

The seven o’clock dinner at the Catchum mansion 
was a stately function. The meal was served in 
several courses by two slant-eyed Japs dressed in 
evening togs with shiny fronts. Several guests sat 
around the wonderful table; the master of the house 
sitting in a wheel chair at the head; a massive man 
with glaring face, a wisp of hair on his pate, and a 
pair of soup whiskers like a grand-dad walrus. 

Being deaf, and afflicted with gout, lumbago, and 
a bad temper, he did not enter into the gentle repartee 
passing around the table. He was opposed to high 
taxes, the prohibition of Scotch high-balls. High 
Church ritualism, freedom of the press, and un- 
[ 20 ] 


THINGS MOVE IN THE DIOCESE 


married women. He had tried to marry off Casey 
for many years and failed. It made him a little 
sour on the subject and he refused to discuss it any- 
more. His wife Jean, was of French extraction, a 
direct descendant of the Marquise de Sevigne a cele- 
brated beauty and poet. She was possessor of the 
family fortune and a loyal Prayer-book Churchman. 
It made her smile to see a curate sitting by the side 
of her daughter and being a very wise woman she pre- 
tended not to feel gratified. 

After a splendid meal Dolittle paid his respects to 
the family and left the mansion house and walked 
down the long driveway to the postern gate. Here he 
paused and raised his hat calmly and bowed with 
gentle thanks. She slowly walked back to her home 
while a scared parson hurried to the rectory. 

“That gal is some clinging vine by bally,’’ he 
growled tumbling into bed for a snooze. 

Next morning Dolittle met Rev. Archibald Pott at 
the Reaper’s Hotel. The young man greeted him 
warmly. 

“How is everything dad?” 

“Have you heard the latest?” said Pott coughing. 

“No.” 

‘ ‘ Pretty man will be our next bishop. ’ ’ 

“Well good luck to him!” 

“Lamont thought he would get it.” 

‘ ‘ Hadn ’t heard of it, ’ ’ laughed George. 

‘ ‘ Funny, you work with him. ’ ’ 

“The doctor does not reveal his plans to me.” 

[ 21 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


‘ ‘ Strange, ’ ’ muttered the veteran turning red. He 
was so used to pumping people for information that it 
angered him whenever he ran up against a snag. 

“ Is it ? ” answered the curate quietly. 

‘ ‘ Good-day ! ’ ’ and Pott vanished. 

“The poor old fellow took me for a sucker,’’ 
laughed George hurrying for the car just ready to pull 
out for Warrentown. 

Sometime later on a hot afternoon at two o’clock 
Archdeacon Prettyman met a large assembly of 
Prayer-book Churchmen. In addressing them he said : 

“My dearly beloved brethren, I want to thank you 
for meeting me here to-day. My close friends have 
requested me to enter the race for the assistant 
bishopric this fall, in view of the fact that our aged 
prelate needs a strong man to help him in ministering 
to the needs of the diocese. As you all know I have 
been misled for several years and as a High Church- 
man have sought to undermine the ‘Church of our 
Fathers.’ From this day forward I intend to stand 
firm for the Prayer-book type of Churchmanship be- 
cause. it is the only honest course to pursue in our 
Church. For several years I have witnessed the dis- 
ruptive activities of High Churchmen, a decided 
minority, and the conviction is strong within me, 
that it is time to insist upon the prerogatives of the 
majority; there is a limit to the privileges of the 
High Church minority. That rebellious clique in 
this church of ours is a deadly enemy to progress, 
good manners, truth, order, and common sense. With 


[ 22 ] 


THINGS MOVE IN THE DIOCESE 


secrecy, defiance, and snobbery they dare to sbout 
their false rot in several parishes, impudent, false, dis- 
honest, aggressive, and quarrelsome in every case. 
They are the laughing stock of America and by their 
constant quarreling impress some with more strength 
than they possess. Wherever they place their hands 
there is sorrow, and trouble and Church people are 
distressed by the fraud and presumption of this can- 
cerous growth sapping the life blood out of the 
Church. Throughout all of it we stand aside and 
suffer the humiliation of watching a half dozen cheap 
skates boss a whole congregation. If anyone protests 
the ritualistic “skates” run them out wherever they 
are in control. They despise the church who furnishes 
their clergy with bread for their lazy bellies after giv- 
ing them Holy Orders. Their real purpose is to break 
up the church, and out of the chaos grab as much prop- 
erty as they can, and set up a mean, snobbish, un- 
popular little cult! Brethren, take it from me, we 
must put Zion under lock and key or some fine day 
you will wake up and find yourselves humbugged into 
some other church 1 ’ ^ The Archdeacon sat down and 
wiped the juice from his thin nose. 

“Let me get some fresh air!” said Father Snit B. S. 
the only High Churchman present, who left as mad as 
a bull calf without his breakfast. ‘ ‘ Damn my hide if 
things are looking bad around here for the success of 
Protestant Catholics ! ’ ’ 

“There goes one of them!” yelled the Rev. Clark 
Huggy, slapping Hardwick in the shoulder blades. 

[ 23 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“What did you say?’^ bellowed the furious ritual- 
ist, standing in the doorway. 

A large terrible looking bishop stood just behind 
him wheezing, without a muscle moving in his face. 
The Rt. Rev. Uriah Grumble D. D. glared at the 
shifty Suit, who left or rather vanished. 


[24] 


CHAPTER III 


TWO CLERICS DISAGREE 

pRETTYMAN Called at the lovely residence of Judge 
Skinner. Alfred Ponsonby opened the heavy door, 
admitting him with a faint smile and genuflexion. 
The room was large, roomy and well-ventilated. A 
fine old clock standing near the door pounded out the 
ceaseless hours with slow, lordly beat ; a rug, soft and 
silky, lay in elegant repose upon the polished floor; 
two pictures greatly admired by the Judge hung on 
the walls in spite of the protests of his family ; one 
of them Anabel, a celebrated trotting mare, the other. 
Mademoiselle de Pompadour. Rows of shelves nearly 
covered the west wall, filled with works of fiction, 
history and literature. A pile of hickory wood 
crackled and snapped on the grate, the whole atmos- 
phere holding the silent admiration of the tired 
ecclesiastic. 

Alfred grunted diplomatically, awakening Percy 
from his reverie, and asked in a deferential manner : 

“May I take your card to the Judge or Miss 
Skinner ? ’ ’ 

Prettyman clamped his sharp eyes upon the deli- 
cate tray, then upon the immovable features of the 
trained body servant, and answered : 

“Both!’^ 


[^ 5 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


A pair of heels clicked and two coat-tails dis- 
appeared beyond the silken curtains of the doorway. 
In a few moments the judge’s daughter stepped into 
the room, clad in a black silk dress with an over- 
skirt of lace and ribbons. 

“How good of you to call on us,” she said, gra- 
ciously, exposing rows of rice-like teeth. “Papa will 
be at liberty in a few moments and will join us.” 

The Archdeacon lost his nerve and sank feebly 
into a chair. Cold beads of something seemed to 
dwell upon his forehead. She was a charming girl, 
as pretty as a speckled partridge — in fact, she could 
have been a descendant of one of the Viking kings. 
The venerable was, to say the least, perturbed. 
Sneezing softly, he removed his glasses, wiped them, 
readjusted them, and with renewed composure 
glanced benevolently in her direction ; his eyes rested 
respectfully upon her comely person and he realized 
that she was the same girl he had met in the past. 
There was something enduring and splendid in her 
superb lines; the glory of her yellow hair, shaded 
with bits of red; the disarming smile playing with 
ease upon her pure mouth; the wonder, witchery 
and inquiry of her dancing eyes; an indescribable 
grace and poise completed the vision. Presently she 
broke the intense stillness and came to the rescue of 
the stunned parson by laughing in a rich, musical 
voice : 

“So you are the Venerable Percy Prettyman?” 

“He is not pretty and he is not venerable,” 

[26] 


ex- 


TWO CLERICS DISAGREE 


claimed the angry voice of Timothy Crahbit, enter- 
ing unannounced. 

Prettyman arose and beheld a fat, impudent, blear- 
eyed individual, arrayed in black garb and flat bat. 
He was the canon of St. Mark’s and a third-class 
church politician, living in luxury on the prestige of 
his noble father. He spent most of his time meddling 
with the affairs of better men and irregular ministra- 
tions at the altar of God. Timothy was exceedingly 
fond of Julia. Her beauty and accomplishments 
charmed and captivated him, for she always treated 
him with kindness and granted him many social 
privileges. 

The venerable removed his monocle, entirely ig- 
noring the insulting remark of the spoiled young 
cleric. 

‘ ‘ How are things going, Crahbit ? ” he inquired. 

‘‘Address me by my proper titles, sir!” 

“My eye! What are they? Don’t you know?” 

“I am the Rev. Timothy, S.T.M., canon of St. 
Mark’s Cathedral,” sputtered the fat politician, 
glancing in a dignifled manner at Miss Skinner. 

“Very well, Canon!” replied Percy, respectfully. 

Miss Skinner left the room to answer a call on the 
telephone in another part of the house. 

“See here, Prettyman, you do not seem to catch 
on to the situation around here. I understand that 
you are pulling wires for the bishopric. My poor 
father may drop off any day and a suitable man 
must be found who can All his place and at the 


[ 27 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


same time impart the glorious tenets of tenth century 
mediaevalism, to an unbelieving generation. You 
are not fitted for that great office because, to my 
mind, you are not qualified intellectually. Then you 
do not believe in the divine right rule of the episco- 
pacy, for I heard you say on one occasion that you 
believed that ministers and laymen should have a 
voice in the government of the Church. I am going 
to be elected to succeed my father and then I’ll — 
by gad! — I’ll show you archdeacons and fat clerics 
how to rule Zion!” 

“Don’t you think the laity have a voice in Church 
affairs?” asked Percy. 

“No, they have not a word to say. The Church 
is a spiritual monarchy; the diocese is ruled by a 
major king and the parishes by minor or petty kings. 
I am tired of playing minor king and will therefore 
eventually become a major king.” 

“Who pays the bills for the upkeep of the 
Church ? ’ ’ 

“The laymen, of course,” replied the Canon 
angrily. 

“I do not entertain your views, for I hold that all 
of the members of our Christian democracy, includ- 
ing the clergy, have a divine right to express their 
will. 

“Prettyman, you believe in the ritualistic program 
and I ’ll grant that you are an expert in celebrating, 
but you will never make an able ruler of the kingdom 
because you do not comprehend the needs of the 
Church at all.” 


[28] 


TWO CLERICS DISAGREE 


“What are the greatest needs of the Church in 
the immediate future, Canon?” 

“We must see to it that every newly elected bishop 
is a ritualist. Some day we can secure a number 
sufficient, with the help of carefully selected hench- 
men, to tear the Prayer-book to pieces and erect on 
its debris the unauthorized manual of the Sixth 
Edward ! ” 

“I could help do that,” declared the archdeacon. 

“You might, but 111 not take a chance on you, 
Prettyman. I desire the office myself and am free 
to inform you that I have a considerable pull among 
the brethren.” 

‘ ‘ One imagines your pull ! ’ ’ replied the venerable, 
laughing. “You could not pull a nut out of a knot- 
hole.” 

“You are insulting!” 

“I cannot help it. Canon, you are such an ad- 
mirable ass!” 

Miss Skinner entered the room and exclaimed: 

“What in the world is the matter?” 

“Nothing, I assure you. Miss Julia,” said Crabbit. 
“We were discussing several topics of local interest 
when Mr. Prettyman slightly disagreed with me. We 
are the best of friends, but of course you know that 
the best of them have their little squabbles.” 

“All right, Timothy; but remember that my guests 
must always receive the hospitality of the house of 
Skinner,” she warned graciously. 

Young Crabbit excused himself and withdrew. 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


The Archdeacon, upon inquiry, found that the county 
Judge had left sometime previously and hurried to 
his downtown office for an important conference. 
He had never transacted any business with the 
Judge, but felt sure that his letter of introduction 
from the good bishop would secure for him instant 
recognition. 


[ 30 ] 


CHAPTER IV 


A MAN IN THE MAKING 

Judge Skinner hunted up two or three old friends 
and went down to the billiard room in the Antler’s. 
They played one game when Prettyman called for 
an interview. Leaving his friends, the Judge took 
Percy by the arm and led him into the elegant recep- 
tion room. Both men seated themselves in com- 
fortable chairs. 

‘‘My boy, you have something to say to me. When 
I left you at my home I did not know that you had 
anything of special importance to say to me, other- 
wise I should not have left so soon!” 

“Thank you for your kind explanation. Judge.” 

“Out with it, my lad,” The wise jurist was won- 
dering whether Percy had proposed to Julia or not. 
Walking over to the silver case on the mantelpiece 
he raised the lid and took out a quantity of “fine- 
cut” and placed it slowly in his cheek. “Out with 
it, my lad!” It was a half request and command 
mixed. He always spoke in that tone to Ponsonby 
whenever asking for his misplaced hat or something. 
The elderly man sat down. 

“I am very fond of your daughter. Judge Skinner, 
and am sure you will not be offended for my men- 

[31] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


tioning the fact/’ Prettyman paused to get his 
nerve and to see how the Judge would take it. 

“I am fond of her, too, Percy. No harm at all, 
my boy.” 

Prettyman felt faint at first, but now he could feel 
his strength coming back. 

“I’d like to take her,” ventured the Venerable. 

“Where, to the movies or something?” The Judge 
was getting slightly impatient, as “Bags,” an old 
pal, had beaten him at the pool table and he wished 
to return and win a game. He heard “Bags” laugh- 
ing about it out in the room beyond. 

“Let me explain. I’d like to marry Julia!” 

Skinner coughed violently to hide his mirth, and 
after a tremendous effort he replied in a kind tone : 

“Is she willing?” 

“I do not know for sure.” 

“Have you popped the question?” 

“No, Judge, I didn’t have the nerve.” 

“Want me to propose for you?” 

“No, Judge. I’ll ask her sometime.” 

“Well, let me know how she feels about it.” 

“I’ve another matter. Judge. I suppose that you 
are aware of the fact that I would like to be the next 
Bishop of Smithfield?” 

“No; do tell me about it!” The older man was 
becoming interested. He knew all about Prettyman ’s 
schemes and plans, but desired to hear his story. 

“I have joined the Evangelicals and made a great 

[ 32 ] 


A MAN IN THE MAKING 


speech to them on the glory of the Prayer-book 
position.’^ 

“Do you really believe in the pure principles of 
the Reformed Faith, Percy?” 

“ Yes. Why?” 

“I was just wondering. You know I have always 
classed you with the ‘clique’ and find it hard to 
consider you as a churchman.” 

“Well, I am sure of the support of many who 
want a strong man to take charge of things.” 

“Are you a strong man?” The Judge was won- 
derfully respectful. 

Percy felt his pep leaving him and fought it with 
all of his will power. The old man’s easy questions 
seemed to draw all of the sap out of him. 

“I don’t know,” breathed the Venerable. 

“So you are to be our future Lordship?” 

“Yes, sir, I am, if God is willing.” 

“I hear that Timothy Crabbit expects to run.’' 

“He cannot secure the election!” said Prettyman. 

“Dr. Smooth may cast his hat into the ring.” 

“He has not a ghost of a show.” 

“Dr. Lamont may accept an election.” 

“He can never get it. Judge, for he has been too 
plain spoken.” 

“Bishop Grumble would accept an election, as he 
is tired of his jurisdiction. ’ ’ 

“Uriah could not poll a baker’s dozen,” Percy 
laughed. 

“Indeed, what you say is interesting, for I have 
[ 33 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 

been interested in diocesan affairs for many years. 
Of course, I am not interested in the politics of the 
Church and could not give you any help along that 
line.^^ 

“I think that I can manage my campaign nicely. 
You know, Judge, that I would make an ideal ‘dark 
horse,' after the little fellows have done their 
shouting. ’ ’ 

Skinner laughed until “Bags" ran in to see what 
was the matter. Grinning, he left, for he saw the 
wink in the jurist 's left eye. 

“No doubt you could reform the whole diocesan 
system. By the way, do you favor an increase in 
the ordinations to the Episcopate?" 

“Yes," replied Prettyman; “each diocese should 
have three bishops, viz. : the bishop, the coadjutor, 
and the suffragan. While the upkeep of three in- 
stead of one would be considerable, yet in the long 
run the Church would profit. Sometimes a diocese 
with one bishop is in a bad way. Take, for instance, 
the diocese of Scrappy. They will not have an 
assistant, and as their bishop has the gout their 
churches suffer." 

“Do you believe in Metropolitans?" The Judge 
was humble. 

“Yes; we will have one some day instead of a 
Presiding Bishop, and you notice that a petty ele- 
ment in the Church is working for it. ’ ' 

“Do you believe in the Nation-Wide Campaign?" 

“Yes," replied Percy, “for you see that it is a 

[ 34 ] 


A MAN IN THE MAKING 


good thing for the missionaries, the clergy and the 
people/^ 

^‘How soV^ 

‘‘Well, you see, the people are taught to give more 
than they are able and it is good for them, for then 
they will receive more ‘spiritual pep/ Then the 
overhead expenses and salaries of the ‘loyal sons’ is 
a good thing for the printers and the ‘sons.’ What 
is left is divided up among the missionaries, some 
of whom use their share to teach their converts not 
to mingle with converts of other faiths.” 

“Don’t you believe in missions?” 

“Oh, yes, but the men who started this Campaign 
overreached themselves. Anybody could start such 
a thing if the folks at home paid the bills and a fat 
wad of salaries. Our parishes were flooded with a 
lot of literature and I know of many rectors and 
whole congregations who refused to read them.” 

“Is there any other undesirable feature?” 

“Yes; if the Campaign had been a success, the 
rectors and people would have become mere pawns 
to be ordered about and moved hither and yon by 
the swivel chair ecclesiastic. In this country a par- 
ish and rector have certain rights, and believe me, 
they will not be humbugged into an ultimate ecclesi- 
astical monarchy, thus nullifying the will of rectors 
and people.” 

“I thought that you would favor the Campaign?” 

“I would,” replied Percy, “in case I am elected 

[ 35 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


bishop. Then I would not have to worry about the 
rights of the rectors or people/^ 

“I see,” said the Judge. “So the Campaign fig- 
ured on making the rector a sort of bally clerk to 
do the fieecing whenever New York barked. Bully 
for the crowd in New York directing the thing and 
pretty rough on the goat — the faithful parson. I see 
it pretty clearly now. The major kings live in New 
York and skip about the country on the people’s 
money ; the minor kings direct the proceedings from 
their little thrones; and the rectors, or may we say 
insignificant kings without a crown and little au- 
thority, lose that little, and become a mere shadow 
of their former infiuence and importance ; the people 
as usual would remain silent and pay increasing 
demands and produce the ducats when the heads of 
Zion cracked the whip!” 

“You have a pretty correct idea of the mess. 
Judge.” 

“What did they do when a rector and people 
failed to respond?” 

‘ ‘ The kings got busy and tried everything to coax 
and urge the parish ‘to go over the top.’” Then 
Percy added, “The higher-ups were afraid to com- 
mand the people, for when the people speak, thrones 
crack and crumble into dust.” 

“You said something that time, Percy!” 

“By the way, are you in charge of the legal papers 
of the diocese?” 

“Yes, I am.” 


[36] 


A MAN IN THE MAKING 


“Has young Crabbit a box in your private office?’^ 

“I am sorry, but I am unable to say,” replied the 
Judge kindly. 

‘ ‘ I would like to have you take care of some things 
for me. Judge?” 

“I’d be glad to favor you if you care to trust me. 
Of course, I cannot be held responsible if they should 
be lost or stolen.” 

“I am satisfied,” replied Prettyman, who placed 
a small black box and a large blue sealed envelope 
in the lawyer’s hand. 

“What in the world have you got in these two 
mysterious sealed packages, my boy?” he asked, 
blowing huge smoke rings towards the ceiling. “I 
do not mean to be inquisitive, but why do you come 
to me when you could have placed them in one of the 
downtown banks ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ The whole diocese trusts you and I guess I can, ’ ’ 
responded the Venerable. “I would not leave them 
with you for a moment were I in the least doubt as 
to your splendid character.” 

“Thank you, Prettyman,” replied the Judge. 

The Venerable Percy left for Stab City in order 
to marry a couple of former acquaintances. Skinner 
returned to the pool table to pay off an old score 
with “Bags,” who was, by the way, a member of the 
Vestry of the Cathedral. 

Inside of a few hours Prettyman returned to 
Smithfield and walked up Pleasant Avenue. The 
silvery moon peeped over the majestic tower of St. 

[ 37 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


Mark’s about a mile down the street. Prettyman 
entered his quarters humming “Old Black Joe.” He 
was tired, yet lay awake for a full hour making 
plans to reform, to regenerate and to strengthen 
the Church of the Lord of Lords — and incidentally 
Prettyman. 

Then he fell asleep and dreamed that Uriah 
Grumble and Poxville had a fight. Foxville was 
crying and he awakened in a minute. Rover was 
licking his master’s face. 


[38] 


CHAPTER V 


DOLITTLE DOES MUCH 

Of all the learned, famous men in the ministerial 
ranks along the Atlantic coast, Lamont towered 
above them. He was a wholesome power to be 
reckoned with — a faithful Churchman, learned plain- 
spoken, brave, unselfish, devout, and God-fearing; 
slightly beyond the age when most men marry and 
a little older than the Archdeacon, he was a giant in 
intellectual and religious circles. Hard work and 
undivided interest won to his church rich and poor. 
A few hated him, a multitude loved him, and the 
world, the flesh and the devil shunned him. He was 
ignored by fast society, sincerely/ respected by the 
great middle class, and mortally feared by the mem- 
bers of the underworld; he had offended some be- 
cause he insisted that they live moral lives, others 
because he urged them to attend church and act like 
Christians when out of it. One old woman left his 
church because he gave five hundred to help re- 
establish a worthy Jewish woman and her little 
brood whose father was killed in the yards. Another 
left because he gave a poor young man the job as 
sexton at a fair salary. Her boy wanted the position, 
but he was too lazy to sweep out the church, so the 
job went to Mike McGinty because the young Irish- 

[ 39 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


man delivered the goods. Lamont knew that the 
sexton was of the Roman faith and respected him 
for his loyalty; but Mrs. Sharp and her lazy Bob 
thought otherwise and complained to Grumble and 
Foxville 0 ’Grady right away. Lamont was tolerant 
of everybody provided that they did not try to regu- 
late his leadership of his parish. A few finally left 
him altogether and adopted the carnal things of the 
world. The altar of God was forsaken because 
Satan offered them a mess of pottage in exchange 
for their spiritual birthright. 

Lamont came into his own. One year ago he car- 
ried the policies of his party to victory in the 
Diocesan Convention, and supported Timothy Crab- 
bit in one of his schemes. In his heart he deplored 
the sinful, lazy life of the young cleric, but felt that 
it was wise to help him temporarily, until in the 
Providence of God he should be removed. Crabbit 
was one of those petted sons who lived on the pres- 
tige and cash of a renowned father. Endowed with 
talent and ability, he seldom used them for the glory 
of God or man. He owed his present position solely 
to his parent and few men could be more unfit for 
his position. Timothy grabbed a small diocesan 
office that Lamont placed in his way, and observing 
all of this the doctor smiled upon seeing him take 
the bait so nicely. Not long after that he hung the 
rectorship of a large parish before the youngster’s 
eyes, and thereafter the young Canon became his 
willing slave. In the fullness of time Lamont was 

[ 40 ] 


DOLITTLE DOES MUCH 


quite sure that Timothy would never get the parish, 
and further might even see the necessity of doing 
something worth while. 

Things skipped along as usual. Lamont and Doc- 
tor Mabie left the city and travelled up to the moun- 
tain hamlet of Lonesome in the Catskills. The old 
physician knew more in one minute than five young 
cubs knew in five, - and everybody knew it. He 
caught most of the fish last season and now his 
D.D. figured on a lot of good luck in order to even up 
things. 

As soon as the great rector left, Prettyman pro- 
ceeded to get busy. Visiting parish after parish, the 
brethren were properly instructed to vote for the 
right man ; Lamont was described as a man who had 
grown rather visionary. The vacation was near at 
hand and most of the clergy planned to take their 
well-earned rest; all of them had welcomed Percy, 
and did not seem alarmed about the political situa- 
tion. But it was difficult for the foxy ‘eye of the 
bishop’ to fool all of the people, for one day a poor 
rector from a distant place rode up to Dolittle’s 
quarters bespattered with mud from head to foot 
and wanted to see the head of the parish. 

“The head has gone fishing and left the tail here 
to look after things,” laughed Dolittle. “Come in, 
Mr. Ditt, and have a bite to eat. You must have 
ridden quite a ways?” 

“Thirty-odd miles!” replied the rider, who pro- 
ceeded to wash up and prepare for lunch. Jackson 

[41] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


Ditt was the rector of the old church in Wakefield 
and a leader of the sturdy Evangelicals in a consid- 
erable area. After lunch he asked several questions 
concerning the activities of the Archdeacon. Was 
Lamont aware of his plans? Did Dolittle under- 
stand the Prettyman program of sowing seed among 
the honest brethren? Since the recent storm, the 
lines of communication were down and Ditt felt im- 
pelled to keep the church at Warrentown informed. 

“You are a good scout and faithful to our holy 
religion,’^ remarked Dolittle admiringly. 

“Thanks,” replied the rider of ancient Wakefield, 
leaving for home. “Come over and spend a week 
with me this summer, George. ’ ’ 

“As sure as the black bass wiggle, old top !” cried 
the curate. 

Dolittle wrote a letter and sent it to Doc Lamont 
up to Lonesome and then went out motoring with 
Miss Catchum — George just could not refuse and 
she looked pretty well hid under her sun hat. The 
curate decided to imagine that she was a French 
beauty and then of course he enjoyed the ride very 
much. Passing through the Richfinny hills on the 
way home the heat was terrific. He was scared when 
he helped her out at the old postern gate. The sweat 
had washed away her powder and fate revealed a 
true Catchum face, red and pitty like. 

“Thank you so much for taking me for a ride. 
Miss Casey.” 

“We have had a fine time and we will try it 
again.” 


[ 42 ] 


DOLITTLE DOES MUCH 


Dolittle told her a funny story and she laughed 
heartily. Then a terrible misfortune took place. Her 
set of lovely teeth costing a thousand “paper men” 
fell out and rolled down to a quiet dell at the edge 
of the grounds. George ran down and picked up the 
dainty thing and placed it in her hands. Then he 
beat it. 

A day or two later he received a reply from the 
angler at Lonesome. “Prettyman is a spoiled child, 
a ladies’ man, and a plain nut! He could not beat 
Pott in an election for road boss. Don’t worry any 
more about me or the politics of the church. I’d 
rather hook a bass anyway. If it’s God will I’ll poll 
the votes and if not I should worry!” Lamont’s let- 
ter ended. 

Word was passed around that everything was all 
right, but many of the clergy and laymen were 
anxious to have the doctor home again. Timothy 
saw an opportunity now to do some mischief; he 
disliked the doctor and despised Prettyman ; he 
barely mentioned, while attending a social gathering 
one evening, that the Archdeacon had been slightly 
indiscreet in his attentions towards the organist at 
Kimberly; then, too, Lamont himself seemed too 
friendly with the fair sex generally. .These false 
rumors spread about quickly and caused some talk 
among the people, to be sure. Timothy received 
some prominence as a result of his knavery, and 
stood on a foundation of sand; the shame of it was 
his utter lack of common sense, for Lamont would 
some day get his goat. 


[ 43 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


The Crabbit family left Smithfield for the summer. 

Prettyman and Lament did not suffer much from 
Timothy’s scurrilous attack; while they had some 
faults like most of us, they were honest, pure-minded 
men. The reporter of the Northwestern Indepen- 
dent, young Sput, a crack news getter, questioned 
him, Prettyman. Did Crabbit tell the truth ? Whom 
did Dolittle like best, Mrs. Cash or Miss Catchum? 
Had Lamont caught many bass and trout? Was he 
too attentive to the weaker sex? Did Timothy have 
much pull ? Did not the political pulse indicate that 
he, Prettyman, could be elected bishop instead of 
Lamont? Percy didn’t know a thing and the smooth 
Sput left in a huff without any news. 

The Venerable was slowly emerging from a soft- 
fingered cad into a strong-fisted man. The more he 
came in contact with greed, graft and hypocrisy, the 
more his eyes were opened to the necessity of hitting 
hard. Graft and the dollar ruled this world and the 
Almighty managed the future, where men would 
have little need of knee dresses for their wives and 
piles of ill-gotten cash. He had left the High Church 
‘‘Clique” and felt able to breathe fresh air again. 
For some time he had been reading the signs of the 
times and realized that the forces of hate, bigotry, 
and mediaevalism must be supplanted by truth, love 
and common sense churchmanship. Prettyman only 
condemned the “clique.” All of the other clergy 
were men of exceptional learning, ability and conse- 
cration; he meant to protect them from the “clique” 

[ 44 ] 


DOLITTLE DOES MUCH 


who sought to get a strangle hold on the Church by 
sheer nerve and force. A few days later a number 
of clergy and laity met him in the large parish 
house. None of them believed him guilty of wrong 
and he addressed them with grave dignity ; for they 
were the real leaders of the whole diocese. He re- 
lated briefly the plots and wire-pulling of the dirty 
little ‘ ‘ clique. ’ ’ Considerable evidence was presented 
by several individuals, especially the laity, to show 
the frantic efforts of the Oxford politicians to de- 
stroy the Church entirely. Young Wrench of Rose- 
dale arose and moved that Prettyman be put up as 
a candidate for the Episcopate. 

‘‘We have the goods on the Romanizers ! ’ ’ yelled 
several voices. 

“Yes!” cried several others. “And we will defeat 
them as surely as the New York ‘clique’ received a 
lambasting in a great election not so very long ago 1” 

Dr. Lightly, rector of Kimberly, arose and made 
a few pleasant remarks. He viewed the rumor of 
Crabbit as untimely and to be regretted and pledged 
his support to the Archdeacon. Prettyman would 
be the next bishop, but Lamont would give him a 
hard run for his money. 

On the following Saturday the two Church papers 
published accounts of the recent meeting at the 
Archdeacon’s quarters. The Smithfleld Churchman 
declared war on Lamont and Prettyman; the War- 
rentown Chronicle reciprocated by attacking the 
crafty Smooth, Bottomly, Uriah Grumble, Timothy 

[ 45 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


Crabbit and Foxville O’Grady. If Percy was a 
ladies’ man be would certainly make a better bishop 
than the lazy canon of St. Mark’s. Again, if Pretty- 
man could not secure the election, he could throw 
all of his support to Lamont and elect him. The 
editor of the Warrentown Chronicle, George Pox, had 
a whole lot to say in his widely read paper, and 
by ginger, he was not afraid to put it into print! 

Prettyman went to Warrentown during the fol- 
lowing day and met the intelligent Fox in front of 
the Commercial Club. They talked about the recent 
write-up for thirty minutes. Then they laughed real 
loud. “Bobs,” the policeman, frowned a bit and 
walked away in search of a safe place to take a nap. 


[46] 


CHAPTER VI 


SMOOTH A WILLING TOOL 

The recent comment of the church press on the 
local situation caused a storm of protest from vari- 
ous points; rumors fell thick and fast — ^while some 
blamed Fox, others complimented him. Dr. Smooth, 
the versatile editor of the Smithfield Churchman, 
came in for his share of praise and criticism. Bishop 
Crabbit, a quiet, lovable gentleman of the old school, 
deeply deplored the bitterness injected into the con- 
troversy and wrote a mild letter of protest to both 
editors.- The editor of Warrentown tendered an 
appropriate apology for his part in creating unde- 
sirable publicity. Smooth, however, was not in the 
same mood, for he replied by saying that he meant 
everything that he had published about the Pretty- 
man-Lamont combination, and would not retract a 
word of it. The Ordinary was in a dilemma, for 
Smooth provided a large sum of money each year 
for his work; so, he hurried to the telephone and 
called up that gentleman. A mistake had been made 
in protesting against a recent article published in 
his paper, and of course he would forget the matter. 
Would not the doctor dine at the Bishop’s house 
next Thursday at six? He would and did accept 
with alacrity ! 


[ 47 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


Things were going to the dogs, so Dolittle decided 
to get busy, often wishing Lament were home. He 
picked up a half-smoked cigar, twirled it over his ■* 
head, and let fly through his study window; there 
was a loud mewing and commotion outside in a few 
seconds; the burning end of his cigar had struck 
the half-closed eye of a dozing cat belonging to a 
maiden lady across the way. Grabbing his hat, he 
hurried down Peach Tree Avenue toward the depot, 
while the aged girl stood in her front yard hurling 
imprecations upon him and all of his descendants. 

The telegraph operator had left a few minutes 
before for lunch. A newly installed telephone stood 
within reach and he had long distance connection 
with Lamont at Lonesome in five minutes. 

“Snakes, blind cats and old maids!” yelled the 
cleric. “Come home as soon as possible, or I shall 
have a stroke of apoplexy. Smooth and two or three 
others are raising the devil and you had better 
come I” 

“Hold on, my son, I am in perfect control of the 
situation. I have been in the game a little too long 
to be swindled by a bunch of lame ducks. Well, have 
Mrs. Irwin prepare a bite for me, as ITl be home on 
the night train.” 

The next morning there was a look of contentment 
upon Lamont ’s face. He sat in front of his study 
window enjoying the luxury of a first-rate Havana, 
having finished a light breakfast. For several years 
it had been his invariable custom to enjoy a quiet 
[48] 


SMOOTH A WILLING TOOL 


morning smoke. While a man of liberal views on 
many subjects, he was slightly narrow-minded in 
others ; one of them — he loved the weed himself but 
advised his many friends not to think of taking up 
such a loathsome habit. 

Dolittle came in presently, and somehow the doc- 
tor wondered whether his amiable assistant was as 
loyal as he appeared. He had come highly recom- 
mended from the congregation at Swarthmore, and 
he had begun to rely on him — such a manly chap, 
anyhow ! 

“Hello, George. Things disturb you muchT’ in- 
quired the head of the parish. 

“Well, they could be worse, sir.’^ 

“By the way, son. Smooth wrote a damnable arti- 
cle meant to impress my friends and to eventually 
cripple me. Most churchmen in the diocese take his 
mean. Ritualistic sheet, and many will believe him. 
Called me a simple politician out for a good job — 
do you get me?’’ 

The curate looked sad and nodded his head affirm- 
atively. Then he informed the doctor how someone 
had entered the rectory, during his absence, and 
carried away some private correspondence. 

“So they wanted to get some inside information, 
George, and I guess they have got it!” 

“That is why I urged you to return to Warren- 
town at once,” replied the young man. 

Lamont looked searchingly into the honest eyes of 
his helper and read his character as easy as a page 

[ 49 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


of an open book. He secretly loved Dolittle because 
he realized in his great mind, that the curate was a 
fine type of American, the product of honest stock 
and the pure sunshine laughing ’mid rills and bonny, 
templed hills. 

Lament long ago found out that George would 
make a hard hitter in the clerical ranks and smiled 
with sincere admiration whenever he thought of it. 
In the eyes of the learned doctor George had one 
talent more notable than many suspected — the cur- 
ate was not afraid of anybody but God. He never 
stirred up trouble, but usually finished it when 
others were ass enough to get fresh. On one sum- 
mer evening a certain leading social bug of Warren- 
town, a perfect ten-cent sport, came to see Dolittle 
about a little matter. 

“See here, Mr. Dolittle, I believe my brother 
teaches one of your classes in Sunday school?” 

“Yes, sir!” 

“Last Sunday you appointed another in his 
place.” 

“That is correct, I believe.” 

“Why did you presume to attack my own brother?” 

“He refused to follow the Bible and Prayer- 
book, using a book of lectures on the 'mass’ instead.” 

“He can teach it if he wants to!” replied “tin- 
can,” becoming abusive. 

“Run along. I don’t want to be bothered with 
such a bally rotter as you,” replied George, walking 
away. 


SMOOTH A WILLING TOOL 


‘‘ITl report you to the High Church Club and 
Foxville 0 ’Grady ! ’ ’ screamed the cad as he walked 
away, swinging his cane. Lament rolled with laugh- 
ter, for he heard the whole conversation. Presently 
the curate joined him. 

^‘If I were you, my hoy, I would be a little more 
temperate in my language.” Lament looked stern 
and his assistant felt a little hurt. “I know that you 
did the right thing in defending the Church School, 
but please don’t have any more words with such 
trash in the future. When they get fresh walk 
away and never pay any more attention to them, 
nor visit them in their homes unless they send for 
you.” 

“Thank you. Doctor.” Dolittle left and proceeded 
down the street. During the first two blocks he 
heard strange sounds coming from the rectory — it 
was Lamont laughing over the curate and the latest 
squabble. 

The head of the parish now began to analyze the 
case. Being a man of acute perception, wide experience 
and thoroughly trained mental powers, he was just the 
man to solve a thorny problem; one thing was firmly 
fixed in his mind. Percy was a gentleman and 
Timothy the son of a gentleman. It was hard for him 
to suspect any of the clergy of such a mean theft of 
sacred property which outlined the hopes and plans 
of his party. The problem was not yet solved, by any 
means. An unseen power seemed about to ensnare 
and strangle him with malice and hate. The loss of 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


the papers placed his future leadership in jeopardy; 
the case was not yet solved by any means. He felt 
morally sure that those manuscripts, letters, and 
notes had reached by devious methods the hands of 
his bitter ecclesiastical enemies ; his fall from power 
was a foregone conclusion. The fastidious Smooth 
would be delighted, beyond a doubt, to obtain for 
publication a single letter from that packet! 

The next morning upon entering the study he was 
atstonished to find the well-known package of letters 
and papers lying in the center of the open desk. An 
examination revealed that not one of the original 
papers were missing. Someone had forced open the 
study window during the night and had left them 
there. Whoever had gained possession of the papers 
could easily have copied them. 

The doctor walked over to the Guild Hall, went 
upstairs, and was admitted into the curate’s office 
with a cheerful good morning. 

“George, I’ve outlined some hard work for you, 
and if you do it well I shall repay you. There has 
been a leak from my headquarters and I think that 
something has trickled into the enemy’s camp. 
Should that be the case, I would be a doomed man, 
for certain persons I know would be heartless. There- 
fore, I want you to do a little detective work. Go to 
Smithfield and find out if young Crabbit has put any 
papers in Judge Skinner’s office recently. Follow 
him as much as possible ; use your own judgment in 
dealing with him, and secure my property, if they 

[ 52 ] 


SMOOTH A WILLING TOOL 


really have it in their possession. If you fail, I shall 
not recommend you for the parish you have in mind ; 
if you come back empty-handed my parish will not 
have much use for me.’^ 

Dolittle went his way and Lament travelled to 
Smithfield the next morning, arriving about ten 
o’clock. He went over and consulted with Judge 
Skinner for about an hour, leaving as quietly as he 
came. The doctor was doing a little detective work 
of his own. He shook hands with Dr. Smooth at five 
minutes after one, in the office of the Smithfield 
Churchman. Smooth was a power behind the throne, 
though not many people knew it. Retiring to the 
seclusion of a private room, the two men lit cigars, 
and sat down for a serious conference on church 
affairs. 

“Dr. Lamont, if I were you I would withdraw from 
the petty politics of the Church ; it is not dignified, to 
my way of thinking, for a man of your age, position 
and influence to place yourself on a level with a ward 
boss. You have the love, respect and confidence of a 
great many people, and as your old friend I beseech 
you to retire from the race.” 

“Tell me, old pal, do you think I can possibly 
stand a show against Prettyman?” asked the doctor, 
confidentially. 

The clever, genial publisher looked over his gold- 
rimmed spectacles straight into the honest eyes of his 
comrade. “Fletcher, take it from me, you haven’t a 
ghost of a show. If you go forward into this cam- 

[ 53 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 

paign you will be ruined in a few months, and I am 
the man who can and will do it. I hold your future 
in the palm of my hand, and as much as I like you, 
I will break you as I would a twig, if you interfere 
with the least of my plans. 

“You have given me some good advice and I shall 
probably withdraw from the race.” After shaking 
hands warmly, the men separated. Lamont hurried 
to the station. Meeting Dolittle at the ticket office 
window, he spoke a few words to him privately. The 
curate elevated his eyebrows and whistled softly ; in 
a few minutes both men were walking uptown, 
eventually stopping at the Antler’s Hotel. After 
a delicious luncheon, Dr. Lamont handed him a cigar, 
lit his own, while the other waited expectantly. 

“George, what would you do if you knew a man 
had your personal property hidden away in his 
safe ? ’ ’ 

“I would secure my property by legal means, if 
possible. A reliable detective agency could handle 
your case.” 

“Suppose the police should nab us while embark- 
ing upon our little voyage of adventure?” 

“Well, Tankerville is chief of the detective bureau 
and also assistant Chief of Police,” said George. 

“All right, my boy. I’ll be there, as I am craving a 
little excitement myself.” 

The Rev. George Dolittle, B.A., sauntered away 
towards the poolroom for a game with “Bags”; 
Lamont smiled and said to himself, “I wonder how 
Dr. Smooth will feel about this time tomorrow 
night.” 


[ 54 ] 


CHAPTER VII 


CLERICAL STRATEGY 

The doctor left the Antler’s after walloping 
“Bags” in a fast game of pool and walked down to 
Juniper Street. At 8 P. M. he entered the private 
office of the Western Detective Agency; the clerk 
greeted him warmly and said that Tankerville the 
chief would not return from Sheridan for several 
days. After a secret conversation of nearly an hour 
both men arose and shook hands. 

“McNielly and Judson will be there promptly at 
ten, sir,” ventured the young man respectfully. 

“Thank you, Powkes. Any help will be appreci- 
ated,” nodded the D.D., walking out easily. 

At 9 :30 P. M. Lament and Dolittle left the Antlers, 
walking up Washington Avenue as far as Queen 
Street. They turned and walked west until they 
reached St. James’ Place ; three doors beyond brought 
them to the modest office of the Smithfield Church- 
man. Out in that part of the city the silence of the 
^ night was unbroken, save for the “ gruncz-z-r-h ” of 
a street car of the Paycash Corporation, or the 
‘ ‘ sput ’ ’ and roar of wild automobiles. A great clock 
in the library announced the hour of ten by ten 
silvery “pings!” The two parsons retreated into 
the shadows in the rear of the building. Here they 

[ 55 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


could see everything in perfect safety. A leaf quiv- 
ered and a twig snapped faintly — ^perhaps it was a 
bird; someone touched them gently and both men 
turned around in a moment; a pair of heavy opera- 
tives stood before them ready for a successful raid 
or a broken skull. McNielly, the smaller of the two, 
had served ten years with a well-known safe com- 
pany and could unlock anything made. Inside of 
fifteen minutes he returned and handed Lament a 
copy of the original papers removed from his rectory 
while away fishing up in the Catskills. He was so 
tickled that he forgot to thank the able Irishman. 

“That was an easy job, gentlemen,” said Mc- 
Nielly. “I left a fake bunch of letters in that old 
box after securing Mr. Lament’s property, and here 
I am safe and sound.” 

Suddenly Judson raised his hand as a warning to 
keep silent. Two forms moved around to the win- 
dow and began to pry it open — the one nearest to 
them. Soon there was a dull ripping sound, the 
window was raised and the mysterious strangers 
entered. In a moment the slanting ray of a dark 
lantern moved about the editorial office, finally rest- 
ing on one spot. The watchers outside waited for 
something to develop. Everything seemed quiet and 
a frog nearby began to “um-r-r-r.” At ten-thirty 
the Interurban from Warrentown was swinging 
around the corner with a bang and splurge ; a long, 
gray, monster auto swung up to the curb and 
stopped, panting ; there was a muffled report inside 

[ 56 ] 


CLERICAL STRATEGY 


of the building and the ground trembled slightly 
under their feet. The door opened and a tall man 
staggered out; in one hand he hel^ McNielly’s false 
package of letters, with the other he dragged a small 
man into the car. In two and one-fourth seconds 
the gray devil leaped about a foot above the ground 
and shot past the corner so fast that the policeman 
six blocks down the street, who was crossing at the 
time, had just time to run and clutch the edge of the 
curbing as a giant wheel missed his shoe by a few 
inches. O’Hanlon had been on the force too long 
anyway, so he resigned next day. By the way, the 
car bore two well-known men about town. Judge 
Skinner and Alfred Ponsonby, Esq. 

Lament and his helpers went in to see the wreck 
when a police patrol dashed up. Before they reached 
the sheltering trees they were placed under arrest 
and left in care of Patrolman O’Donnell, while the 
others entered the building. 

^‘What is the trouble about. Doctor?” asked the 
officer, removing his hat. 

McNielly and Judson led the puzzled Haggerty to 
one side and related the theft and recovery of the 
rector’s property. Some sort of deal was made be- 
tween them, for Judson soon threw his arms around 
Haggerty and his assistant placed a gag in his mouth 
after a frightful struggle. Slipping his arms around 
a tree they tied his wrists with a pair of “cuffs,” and 
ran to the patrol. In a few minutes the police car 
rushed down Queen Street and soon two well-known 

[ 57 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


clerics were reading some recovered property in the 
smoking room of the Antler’s. About the same time 
two happy “cops” were planning what they would 
do with their money — Lament had given them one 
hundred dollars apiece! 

“Will you place this package of letters in your 
safe for the night, Bill?” Lament was speaking to 
the night clerk at the hotel. 

“Certainly,” replied the man, who took them and 
laid them in a safe place. 

George was standing near the waste-paper basket 
thinking hard. Suddenly an idea came to him. 
Picking up several letters of no value he tied them 
up firmly and asked a Jap waiter to place them 
under his pillow upstairs. Then Lament and Do- 
little went out for a short walk — changed their 
minds and hired a taxi for a ride in the cool air 
three miles beyond the limits of the city. 

Sometime near four o’clock next morning two 
tired parsons were entering the Antler’s. The taxi 
had broken down and the two men had to walk back 
to the limits, where they phoned for another glass 
wagon. Running upstairs they entered at once and 
turned on the lights. Prettyman was standing near 
the bed with a package of letters in his hand ; a black 
rag hung from his face below his eyes. Both men 
knew it was a political move on the part of the Ven- 
erable and they recognized him in a moment. They 
decided to punish him and let him go. The subtle 
Percy was in a dangerous position and made a centre 


CLERICAL STRATEGY 


rush. A pair of gray eyes flashed and George caught 
him about the waist line and hugged him severely. 
Percy could not stand the affection and began to 
beg. The doctor interfered and the curate made the 
stranger arise and explain matters. Catching George 
off his guard, he struck him a jolt in the left orb 
which put him out of commission. Running toward 
the doctor, he struck a tornado. The good man did 
not know how to strike, but he knew how to slap, 
and believe me, he was as mad as a wet hen hunting 
her chickens. Slipping his left hand over Pretty- 
man’s neck, he forced his head down and smacked 
his hind part with considerable force and rapidity. 
Then something happened, for Lamont’s foot slipped 
and he fell on the floor. Percy left in the belief that 
he had mastered the two men and had secured the 
valuable private correspondence. Of course, the two 
laughing divines in the Antler’s knew better. 

Lament and Dolittle slept late, as both were very 
tired. After a hasty breakfast, they separated at 
a prominent corner downtown. Lament hunted a 
hat store and the curate entered Bimbels for a cup 
of tea and a grass sandwich. Miss Casey Catchum 
sat in front of him, but, thanks to luck, her back was 
facing in his direction and all he could see was 
“dabs” of fat hanging under her very transparent 
waist. George ate his meat and thin slice of bread 
with a suggestion of what was once lettuce and en- 
joyed his surroundings. Someone moved behind him 
and a rich musical voice spoke with endearing 
charms : 


[ 59 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“How are you, my boy?” She was a month older 
than the handsome, well set up curate, and she had 
rather made up her pretty mind that she would take 
unto herself a husband. Pretty soon George was her 
willing servant, because she was about the most endur- 
ing thing that ever put on a pair of lisle socks! 
Casey was easy to avoid, but not so with the dash- 
ing, beautiful Carrie of correct poise and catching 
feet — for hers had personality and character. 

“Rather well, thank you, Mrs. Cash.” He looked 
her over respectfully and felt astonished. Her face 
resembled a ripe peach and certainly needed little 
attention. “May I order for you a cup of tea?” 

“If you please, Percy!” She did not even stare 
at him, but looked in another direction with a won- 
derful, mellow smile. She was a modest widow, for 
she had cultivated the perfection of manners. 

“Do you need a teacher in the Church School?” 
She wanted a job in the parish and Percy fell for it. 
Sure thing — ^he gave her a primary class instead of 
the men’s Bible class. All men make some mistakes 
and now the curate made a big one. His men were 
dropping out. If he had placed Carrie as their 
teacher every man in the parish would have attended 
and listened to her affectionate, motlmrly instruction. 

“I am glad to have you on our roll as an instruc- 
tor, Mrs. Cash.” Then they talked sanely about 
things for a solid golden hour. 

“My car is gone,” she said. 

“I’ll get a cab and take you to your hotel, dear.” 

[6o] 


CLERICAL STRATEGY 


“Thank you, my dear boy,” and the cab rolled 
and bumped along its graveled pathway. 

Returning downtown he met Lament who had 
been searching for him for an hour. 

‘ ‘ George, let us call and pay our respects to Bishop 
Crabbit before returning to Warrentown.” 

“Agreed,” replied Dolittle. 

They took a Washington car immediately and 
arrived at the Crabbit home just as the family were 
sitting down to dinner. The room was cheery and 
arranged for solid comfort. Walnut panel strips 
were built into the floor and fastened to the walls, 
upon which was attached a six-inch plate rail; the 
table, chairs, picture frames, and other items of 
furniture and decorative stunts were in perfect 
harmony. 

Among several guests, the great Apostle sat at the 
head of his board and insisted upon Lamont sitting 
at his right and Dolittle at his left. Then a stillness 
came over the family and friends, for a Shepherd 
was thanking, in a feeble, tender voice, the Blessed 
Heavenly Father for his manifold blessings. 

The bishop was a striking looking man. Of rather 
heavy build, with a pure, sensitive face, tender gray 
eyes, and a crown of white locks; he was an ideal 
picture of a Representative of the King of Kings! 
Most men loved or respected him the moment they met 
him because they could not help it — he was so dear, so 
noble and so true! He had many things to cause 
him sorrow and tears and the wonderful thing about 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


it all, he managed to hold fast to a manly poise and 
endearing character. How he prayed for his son 
who would not listen to the wisest bishop who ever 
sat upon the throne of Smithfield! 

After a pleasant meal the family broke up. The 
bishop, Lamont, and George repaired to the study. 

“Lament, I am near the end for I can see the 
shadows falling ’mid the western hills. I have done 
very well during the glorious years that have passed 
and yet I might have done better. My friend, how I 
have loved you all these years, because you have al- 
ways been a good scout ! ” 

“Behind the shadows, Fletcher, I can see a flood of 
glory, for there will be no more tears only ‘peace like 
a river’. When my Timothy grew up, I had great 
hopes for him because I believed in him with an un- 
dying faith. Promise me my beloved brother, that 
when you are consecrated to the See of Smithfleld, 
you will guide and mould the footsteps of my boy?” 
The dear eyes looked at the doctor. George noticed, 
that while once so keen and frank, now they were be- 
coming misty and uncertain, 

Lamont knelt down beside his dear old form and 
placed two tender arms about him : 

‘ ‘ Beloved Father, Apostle and Loving Shepherd ! I 
will, for ypur sake always be a friend to Timothy. 
When you “cross the bar” there will be no one to take 
your place in my heart. Tender Christian, ’ ’ and La- 
mont arose, kissed his dear face and stroked his silky 
hair, — someone was playing the piano in another 

[62] 


CLERICAL STRATEGY 


room, and a lovely voice sang in rich mature tones : 

‘ ‘ 0 Love that wilt not let me go, 

I rest my weary soul in Thee ; 

I give Thee back the life I owe, 

That in Thine ocean depths its flow 
May richer, fuller be. Amen.’^ 

The voice was still and two strong men had assisted 
a trembling prophet into his chair. They had been 
talking with God a while and quietly separated never 
to forget the peace, tears, and brotherly love mani- 
fested during that sacred hour. 

Passing the parish house they met Prettyman and 
J udge Skinner. All of the men shook hands cordially 
but none of them forgot the little fracas at St. James 
Place nor the Antler’s. 

The two divines hoarded the Limited and left for 
Warrentown. 


[63] 


CHAPTER VIII 


CUPID SCORED A POINT 

On the second floor of the Chamber of Commerce 
building, in room twenty three, Mr. Horace Bottomly 
had established an office; he had been appointed lay 
city missionary by Dr. Stratton, the former Bishop, 
and kept at it ever since. He was a small man with a 
tiny head and rat-like eyes; his hair had almost de- 
parted this life. Judge Skinner believed himself to be 
the most influential Churchman in the whole district ; 
he was mistaken, for Bottomly was a real power be- 
hind the scenes ; his minions worked for him when he 
was sleeping ; his support must be secured before any 
real diocesan legislation could be enacted. He had 
made up his mind long ago as to who would sit on 
the Episcopal throne in Smithfield; it did not worry 
him in the least how much the little fellows plotted 
and counter-plotted ; he would step in and ring up the 
necessary votes, when the critical moment arrived, at 
any rate he had never failed to do so in the past. 

Bottomly was the living leader, boss, and supreme 
dictator of the right wing ; thoroughly believing in the 
divine right rule of the Episcopacy, and incidentally 
that of Horace Bottomly' Esq., he sought to crush the 
aspirations of the left wing ; they championed the div- 
ine principles of freedom, equality and brotherly 

[64] 


CUPID SCORED A POINT 


love ; he believed in the sacred prerogatives of bigotry, 
aloofness and sectarian hate, and would show the up- 
starts who was the boss and who was not. His office 
was a clearing house of gossip, sedition, plotting, 
wire-pulling and miserable ecclesiastical politics; he 
knew just whom he could depend upon, the precise 
ambition of every prominent cleric in the diocese ; he 
rubbed his skinny hands and cried in a high-pitched 
nervous voice : 

“ITl show the contemptible, lazy Protestants who 
is the boss in this diocese,’ he piped. “I have been a 
faithful Churchman for forty years and — ” 

There was a knock at the door; the nervous little 
fellow who had been walking up and down his office 
talking to himself, now assumed a calm, pleasing 
demeanor and opened the door. Judge Skinner stood 
blinking on the threshold. 

“Come in Judge,” squeaked the miniature official. 

The Judge walked in blowing and puffing in an 
abstracted manner. He looked like the last rose of 
summer, and sat down in the proffered chair with a 
feeling of relief. Bottomly had now reached a posi- 
tion near the window and stood with his hands be- 
hind him, assuming an appearance of complete con- 
tentment. 

“I have the papers Horace,” replied the Judge, who 
was about as willing to serve one wing of the church 
as the other. 

“It certainly relieves me,” replied the little man. 

[ 65 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


^‘I caught a terrible cold when I went to Watertown 
after them. ’ ’ 

“Dr. Smooth is not so smooth after all,” smiled 
Skinner complacently, “you know he was over at my 
office and after smoking one of his cigars, I fell asleep ; 
he handed me a loaded one, upon awakening I dis- 
covered the loss of the papers you intrusted in my 
care. Timothy and I had a consultation. We both 
felt that it would be necessary to secure possession of 
them at once. We knew that Dr. Smooth had hidden 
them in his office and we. were correct. Alfred put in 
a heavy charge, wrecked the safe, secured the packet, 
and in the meantime nearly blew my face off. ’ ’ 

The Judge now walked out leaving the lay mission- 
ary in a happy frame of mind. 

About five minutes later there was another thunk 
at the door, and this time the Archdeacon of Smith- 
field walked in briskly. 

“Good morning, Mr. Bottomly,” he smiled cheerily. 

“Well, well, my boy, how are you,” he responded 
warmly, “have a chair and make yourself at home; 
how are you getting along with your work?’ 

“Fine, indeed sir, just splendid.” 

Both men settled down to the enjoyment of a good 
cigarette. 

“I see there is quite a write-up in the press about 
the late explosion in Smooth’s office,” said Bottomly. 

“Yes, I was not far from there myself, when it 
occurred, ’ ’ he replied reminiscently. 

“You don’t say,” smiled the old man. 

[ 66 ] 


CUPID SCORED A POINT 


“Yes, after they disappeared, you know I had a 
hunch that they had gone to Smooth ’s office, so I went 
on a foraging expedition; and arrived in time to see 
Dr. Lament and his curate leave the building accom- 
panied by two strangers.” 

“I just hate that man, he is a meddlesome fool,” 
cried Bottomly, shrilly, springing to his feet. “So he 
really got the papers?” he whimpered, turning to- 
wards the Archdeacon. 

“Yes,” replied Prettyman, “but I trailed them to 
the Antler’s Hotel, entering their apartments, I coaxed 
Dolittle to hand them over. ’ ’ 

“Didn’t you have any trouble at all?” requested 
Bottomly. 

“Trouble ! why jumping cats ! Lament seized me like 
a tiger cat; we fought about three rounds, when the 
doctor collided against a chair, which rendered him 
unconscious ; Dolittle then made a center rush striking 
me with his head somewhere in the region of my abdo- 
men — the impact was terrific — I swung my right fist 
in a circle and it clipped off the tip of Dolittle ’s chin ; 
there was a dull crash for the fighting parson meas- 
ured his full length upon the floor. I was master of 
the situation, for I had secured the papers and left 
again without attracting attention. ’ ’ 

“What did you do with these papers?” asked the 
old man curtly. 

“I put them in the vault at the State Bank about 
one hour ago. ’ ’ 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


‘‘Why didn’t you put them in your box at Judge 
Skinner’s office?” 

“I was going to,” parried the Archdeacon WEirily, 
“but felt that it would be safer to put them in a larger 
vault, of course, you know I thoroughly trust the 
Judge.” 

“And his charming flip of a gal,” cackled Bot- 
tomly rubbing his bony hands. 

“Look here, Bottomly, don’t you call Miss Skinner 
a ‘flip’ in my presence !” cried Percy hotly. 

“She is a human vampire, and I don’t care if she 
is Judge Skinner’s daughter, I have no use for her. ” 

“Rat man!” roared the Archdeacon, “you are in- 
sulting; take it back or — ” 

“ I ’ll not do it, and you can ’t make me I ” piped the 
small voice again. “I’ll tell the Bishop on you as 
soon as I see him 1 ’ ’ 

The Archdeacon was thoroughly angry — he was 
blind with rage. He reached over and grasped 
Bottomly by the coat collar, just as Miss Skinner 
walked in lightly ; the door having opened unknown to 
them during the struggle. 

“What’s the meaning of all this commotion. Uncle 
Horace ? ’ ’ she asked looking shocked. 

Prettyman had now released the old man, and stood 
aside in a respectful manner. 

“He has just threatened me with murder and 
sudden death, Julia,” explained Bottomly vindictive- 
ly. “I’m leaving immediately to report him to the 

[ 68 ] 


CUPID SCORED A POINT 


Bishop. You may stay here and visit with him if you 
like. ’ ’ 

Taking his hat and coat from the rack, he left them, 
walking out rapidly. 

They sat looking at each other in silence for a few 
moments. 

“Why did you assault an old man like Uncle 
Horace ? ’ ’ she pouted, “ he ’s father best friend. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Sorry Miss Skinner, but you should thank me for 
not breaking his neck. ’ ’ 

“Why, what a mean man you are,’^ cried the girl, 
stamping her foot in anger. 

“You would change your mind, if you knew what 
he called you a few moments ago, ’ ’ he replied. 

“Tell me what he said about me.’’ 

“No indeed, you are mad at me.” 

“Who’s mad?” 

“You are, madam.” 

“I am not, sir.” 

‘ ‘ Then I may decide to tell you, ’ ’ he teased. 

“And I may decide to listen.” 

“And now, suppose I decide not to tell you?” 

“Then I shall not speak to you again,” she said 
flushing, ‘ ‘ I think you are real rude to me. ’ ’ 

“Tell me,” he said looking amused, “do you really 
think that I am a bad sort of a fellow ? ’ ’ 

“Not so very,” she answered smiling faintly, “come 
tell me what he said. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ He said you were a human vampire ! ’ ’ 

“And I say,” she pouted, stamping her dainty foot 

[69] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


on the floor, ‘‘that he hasn’t got as much religion as a 
cat.” 

Then she began to weep bitterly. 

The Archdeacon was greatly disturbed for he did 
not know how to comfort a weeping woman. He felt 
it his duty, however, to try, so taking out his hand- 
kerchief, he began to wipe away her tears with sym- 
pathetic tenderness; it was amazing how quickly she 
recovered in response to his ministrations. 

‘ ‘ I suppose you think I am foolish ? ’ ’ she said look- 
ing up. 

“No, I think you are adorable! Miss Skinner.” 

‘ ‘ Do you really mean it ? ” 

“I do,” he responded gravely. 

“Really, I believe you are a flatterer!” 

‘ ‘ Indeed, I ’m not, for I have admired you since you 
visited my parish several years ago with the Bishop.” 

She looked at him with a puzzling smile on her lips. 
She had grown more mature. The red in her hair — 
those beautiful tresses had deepened in color, and her 
whole make up inspired the young man. She was a 
picture of perfection, a queen of queens, as artless as 
a roe, a full blown Miss, with all the subtle charm of 
the twentieth century. 

The more Prettyman looked at her, the more sym- 
pathetic he felt for himself. He knew s}ie was the girl 
for him and she felt that he thought so. 

“I must go down town on an errand,” she said 
rising and holding out her hand to leave. ‘ ‘ I want to 

[ 70 ] 


CUPID SCORED A POINT 


thank you, Mr. Prettyman for your defense in my 
behalf. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Skinner,’^ he ans- 
wered Avith deference. “May I accompany you, as I 
have some business to transact?’^ 

‘ ‘ I would be delighted to have you walk with me. ’ ’ 
The day was clear and fine above them. The birds 
were singing in the trees lining the avenue, while 
children skipped along laughing and shouting in high 
glee, the rays of a glorious sun bathed the whole scene 
with marvelous light. Before them lay the blessedness 
of living, achievement and conquest; behind them 
several tender memories. They were passing a floral 
establishment, when Prettyman asked her to step in- 
side for a moment. Coming out he handed her a small 
package wrapped in thin paper, she thanked him and 
they separated. She carried a large rose. On a tiny 
card attached to the stem, she read a single word, 
‘ ‘ dearest. ^ ^ 

Prettyman walked up the street utterly lost in 
delicious meditations. 


CHAPTER IX 


GRUMBLE AND THE GRUMBLERS 

Things were becoming warm at Smitbfield. Bot- 
tomly and Smooth had a conference at the Bishop’s 
house; charges were prepared accusing Archdeacon 
Prettyman of conduct unbecoming a clergyman. The 
Bishop tried to persuade Bottomly to drop the mat- 
ter, but he was determined to prosecute his enemy. 
The Bishop, therefore, reluctantly notified all parties 
concerned, summoning them to appear before him 
Thursday morning at ten o ’clock. 

That night Prettyman took the train for Warren- 
town, calling at the residence of George Fox. 

‘‘Well, Prettyman, Bottomly is hot upon your 
trail, isn ’the?” 

“Yes, George; but I guess I can extricate myself 
from the difficulties. By the way, will you act as 
my counsel at the trial ? ’ ’ 

“I’m not trained for that work and might lose 
your case. A friend of mine, Mr. Brown, is a mem- 
ber of the Church and also a very keen lawyer. If 
you wish, I will bring him over Thursday. In the 
meantime you had better have a conference with 
him at his office on Mulberry Street.” 

In a few minutes Prettyman and Brown were busy 
in serious consultation. 


[ 72 ] 


GRUMBLE AND THE GRUMBLERS 

^‘Now, Mr. Prettyman/’ said the lawyer, reflec- 
tively, “did you have any serious trouble with this 
man Bottomly? Perhaps it might be helpful, if you 
would state the whole case.’^ 

The Archdeacon related the story of his scuffle 
with Bottomly, while the lawyer listened intently. 
Prettyman finished and sat down. 

Brown lit his pipe and leaned back in thoughtful 
contemplation. 

“lam sorry, Mr. Prettyman, but according to your 
statements, you are guilty of assault and battery, 
and perhaps with an intent to harm, maim and de- 
stroy the life of Horace Bottomly.” 

“I suppose I am in for it, as Miss Skinner saw 
me choking the insulting old pup.” 

“Well, now, parson, you know there is many a 
slip between cup and lip,” mused the attorney. “I 
might be able to clear you; but, of course, I would 
need a retaining fee of two hundred dollars.” 

Prettyman wrote out a check for the amount and 
handed it over in silence, adding, “Be sure to be 
on hand at the Cathedral Thursday morning at ten 
o’clock.” 

That evening the Archdeacon returned to Smith- 
field, arriving at six o’clock. At ten minutes after 
seven he answered his ’phone; a clerk in Bottomly ’s 
office was speaking. Her employer had asked that 
he call at his office in half an hour. 

“Tell him if he wants to see me, he knows where 
I live,” replied Percy. “I’ll be in bed in an hour.” 

[ 73 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


An hour later Bottomly called at the Archdeacon’s 
study. 

“I have a proposition to make to you, Pretty- 
man,” he chirped. 

“I’m listening.” 

“If you will resign and leave the diocese, I will 
withdraw my charges against you. By your activi- 
ties you have in various ways displeased many of 
the brethren, so take my advice and pull up stakes. ’ ’ 

“ I do not see how I could have offended any of 
the brethren,” replied the Archdeacon, “as T have 
always tried to be on good terms with all of them.” 

“Will you leave, or stay?” cried the old man, im- 
patiently. 

“ 1 11 stay, uncle ; meet me at the trial Thursday. ’ ’ 

Bottomly hurried away and prepared for action. 
Judge Skinner offered to represent him in the trial. 

Thursday morning the clergy began to assemble 
long before the appointed hour. The Bishop could 
not act, as he was in failing health. A neighboring 
Bishop, the Rt. Rev. Uriah Grumble, had been invited 
to preside. At nine-fifty-five, about twenty-five 
clergymen were assembled, when Bishop Grumble 
took his seat. He was a huge,~fierce-looking man, 
with tiny eyes and red puffed cheeks ; being afflicted 
with asthma, he breathed with difficulty. Presently 
he wiped his brow, raised the heavy gavel and let it 
fall. The trial of the Yen. Percy Prettyman, Arch- 
deacon of Smithfield, had begun. 

After the usual proceedings, by request. Dean 

[ 74 ] 


GRUMBLE AND THE GRUMBLERS 


Goodman read the charges as follows: “On a cer- 
tain date, at nine o’clock in the morning, Percy 
Prettyman entered the private office of Horace Bot- 
tomly. After a few minutes conversation, he, Bot- 
tomly, had made some unkind remark about Miss 
Julia Skinner. It seems that Prettyman took excep- 
tion to this, for some reason unknown to the plaintiff, 
and demanded an apology. Bottomly felt unable to 
comply with his request and told him so ; and further 
affirms that said Prettyman, did with malice afore- 
thought, grasp him by the collar, drag him about the 
room, maim, abuse and strike him. Further, that 
Miss Julia Skinner saw the worst part of the proceed- 
ings of the assault, and saved him from being choked 
to death.” 

The Court now proceeded. 

Being unfamiliai' with the ordinary legal rules of 
procedure, the Bishop said, “Guilty or not guilty?” 

“Not guilty,” replied the Archdeacon, respect- 
fully. 

Bottomly was called to the witness stand. His 
story was told clearly and quickly. Brown con- 
ducted a brief cross-examination. 

Miss Julia Skinner, the sole witness, took the 
stand. Judge Skinner yielded to Mr. Brown. 

“Did you see Mr. Prettyman strike Mr. Bottomly, 
Miss Skinner?” the attorney inquired pleasantly. 

“No, sir.” 

“Did not Mr. Prettyman abuse and strike him?” 

“Not to my knowledge, sir,” she replied. 

[ 75 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“When you entered the office what were they 
doing 

“They seemed as docile as two pet kittens/’ 

“Did you see Prettyman touch Bottomly at all?” 

“No,” she murmured. 

“That is all I have to say,” replied Brown. 

Having heard all the evidence, the court held that 
there was no evidence to show that the Archdeacon 
had been guilty of the misdemeanor. One minute 
past eleven o’clock he shook hands with his friends 
who crowded about him. He was free. 

Bottomly was now beside himself with anger, and 
screamed out in the agony of despair: “This whole 
trial is a farce. I’ve been a churchman for forty 
years and I’m not going to be dictated to, nor abused 
any more. This girl was present while I was being 
assaulted, and swore that she saw nothing. She 
ought to be in the penitentiary!” 

Bishop Grumble arose from his chair, walked with 
heavy tread to where Bottomly was beating the air 
and making his threats, and said with a growl: 

“Be gone, be gone 1” 

The little man looked puzzled, then alarmed, and 
thoroughly frightened, he hurried from the building. 
Judge Skinner, who accompanied him, was heard to 
remark just as they passed out of the door : 

“If Julia said that she didn’t see any fight, then 
you have been lying, Bottomly, in order to get Percy 
into trouble. Verily, I believe you would betray 
your grandmother for five dollars.” 


[ 76 ] 


GRUMBLE AND THE GRUMBLERS 


The church trial was over, and the two men walked 
away quietly from the scenes of conflict. Bottomly 
felt deeply hurt by the remarks of his companion, 
because he had told the truth in court and Skinner 
had called him a liar. He wouldn’t stand for it. He 
stopped and demanded satisfaction. 

“What is the matter with your daughter, Skin- 
ner?” he asked. 

“Nothing. Why do you ask?” 

“Because I told the truth,” answered the tiny 
man. 

“Look here,” replied the Judge, trembling, “do 
you mean to say my daughter Julia is a liar?” 

“Yes, sir, every bit of it, and — ” 

Smack ! ! ! The Judge ’s hand had descended with 
some force upon his adversary. Then he jerked him 
down over his knee and gave him a good spanking. 
Bottomly tried to get away and began to cry. A 
policeman standing nearby did not interfere, as 
Skinner had secured him his present position. Some- 
one ran up to the scene of combat. It was young 
Crabbit. He requested the policeman to separate 
the two men. Several other clergymen were ap- 
proaching as Haggerty 0 ’Donnell proceeded to make 
the arrest. Ponsonby arrived just in time to catch 
the stricken officer in his arms. That worthy had 
made up his mind instantly not to arrest Skinner, 
hence the fainting spell. 

The curious group of clergymen now encircled the 
two angry men, some of them enjoying it very much, 

[ 77 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


others pretending to feel sympathetic. Suddenly 
there was a dash for liberty and Horace was running 
down the street in great speed, with a dignified Judge 
standing among his friends and enemies, laughing 
as if his sides would burst. 

Timothy Crabbit could not control his temper any 
longer and said, ‘ ‘ Skinner, I thought you and I were 
friends, for we have known each other for many 
years. Now you are abusing the very man whom 
you used for a tool,” then he whispered, “and if 
these men knew that you hid in your private vault 
a certain packet Bottomly secured for you, they 
would spank you in return,” now adding, “I believe 
I’ll have you arrested for assault and battery with 
intent to kill.” 

“Fire away,” the Judge smiled. Turning to his 
friends among the clergy, he asked, “How many of 
you boys saw me strike Bottomly?” 

“We never saw you strike him once,” came the 
immediate reply from a score of voices. 

The gathering broke up. Grumble was coming 
up the street, grumbling. 


[78] 


CHAPTER X 


THE WATER NYMPH 

One morning Prettyman arose from his bed and 
ate a hearty morning meal. Getting out his box of 
fishing tackle, he selected two small steel hooks, a 
light weight sinker and a fifty-yard silk line. Run- 
ning to the meat market he purchased a small piece 
of fresh bacon, cut it up in narrow strips, and tied 
a piece of red flannel about one end of each. He 
loved to cast for pickerel and bass down at the river 
and he had been planning to go for several days. 
Two days ago he had met “Bags,’’ who was a great 
angler; that knight of the rod had caught eleven 
pike and three snake pickerel inside of three hours ! 
Hurrying out into the glory of the day he ran into 
“Bags.” 

‘ ‘ Going fishing ? ’ ’ asked the dear, fat, old Church- 
man. 

“Yes. Get your tackle and let’s go!” 

“All right!” In a few minutes they started and 
walked block after block until they reached Gran- 
ville Park. This was situated some two miles from 
the city limits, being a donation to the metropolis by 
the late Hon. Silas Granville, a retired merchant at 
the time of the gift, of one hundred acres of woods. 
The charming foliage of hickory and oak drew them 

[ 79 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


on when they beheld, at the bottom of the hill on the 
farther side, the indescribable beauty of lazy pas- 
tures and the laughter of a tinkling brook. The deep 
narrow river curved for a good mile towards the 
south, then rushed with astonishing speed to the 
Atlantic. 

“Bags” left him now and hunted up his favorite 
spot, leaving the Venerable to ramble along the 
bank. He sat down and removed his shoes, slung 
them over his back, walking along slowly and sing- 
ing in a low rich voice: “When You and I Were 
Young Maggie.” Everything looked good to Percy, 
and he felt like a boy again. 

He had many plans for success, provided they did 
not miscarry. Sometime he would go and ask Judge 
Skinner for certain papers and have Dr. Smooth 
publish them. Then the celebrated divine at War- 
rentown would retire from the race and he. Pretty- 
man, would be elected bishop as a matter of course. 
That would be the crowning climax of the drama^ — 
after that he saw the picture of the girl of his 
dreams. Lying down on the soft grass he looked 
into the deep, mysterious blue of the mighty sky 
and wondered. 

“Bally, wow, the bloody beast!” The Venerable 
jumped to his feet. An insect had bitten him a foot 
below the hip on the left-hand side of his left thigh. 

“I wish that I could find that scamp!” cried the 
angry cleric, hunting among the grass. “I’d squash 
him!” 


[8o] 





“WHAT A WATER LILY!” EXCLAIMED THE DIVINE. 

Page 81 . 


THE WATER NYKPH 


He was a good half-mile from “Bags’’ now and 
walked around a clump of bushes growing along the 
edge of the water. He heard a splashing noise and 
thought it was perhaps some domestic animal. Limp- 
ing along over sharp stones for several yards, he 
saw a fair-haired girl standing in the river under 
a great tree growing at its edge, garbed in a bathing 
costume of blue and gold. Suddenly she laughed 
and fell backwards into the waves with a hearty 
giggle. She lay motionless in the water from which 
a pair of feet arose — dainty toes attached, near 
which, unknown to her, a huge turtle lurked 
hungrily. 

“For the love of St. George and the Dragon! 
What a water lily 1 ’ ’ exclaimed the divine. 

Looking toward the tree she saw a water snake. 

“Help! Help! Help!” she cried, swimming out. 

“I’ll help you, madam,” cried Percy, running to 
the rescue. 

The splashing ceased in a moment, a fair one whim- 
pered, “Oh dear !” in a frightened manner and swam 
out into deeper water immediately. Her glorious hair 
hung in strands down her back, her face flushing in 
confusion. On her white brow were several mosquito 
bites and her hands were sun-burned considerably. 
For the fraction of a moment the water nymph 
looked in his direction with amusement clearly en- 
graved upon her features. Then a gracious golden 
smile that would not come off : 

“Of all things, if it isn’t the Archdeacon.” 

[8i] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 

“Indeed it is, and I hope I am not intruding,^’ he 
replied. 

“What brought you out here, anyway? Did you 
bring your camera along ? ’ ' 

“Well, a pair of good feet brought me out here be- 
cause I couldn’t ride on the camera,” he added 
humorously. “By the way, what are you doing 
here?” 

“Can’t you see with your two eyes?” 

“No, I can’t, because I’ve been keeping one eye on 
that large snake about four feet behind you,” he 
answered soothingly. 

She came out of the water this time and stayed 
out. Her chaperon talked to him for a few moments 
while the young woman dressed, then went down the 
river bank to go fishing. 

“We seem to meet quite frequently, don’t we, 
Percy ? ’ ’ she said. ‘ ‘ The other day you defended my 
good name; today — ” she began to adjust her hair — 
“you are a big hero, for you saved me from a snake 
bite.” 

“You are the real heroine,” he replied seriously. 
“I’ll never forget how Horace looked while you were 
giving your testimony. Looked to me like he was 
going to murder you.” 

Julia Skinner sat looking at the glorious landscape, 
seemingly absorbed in its natural beauty. 

“Of course you saw me shake up old Bottomly 
that day, Julia?” 

“How is that?” she said, looking up. 

[82] 


THE WATER NYMPH 


‘ ‘ I saw you looking at me when you came into the 
room.” 

“I did see you. What of it?” she replied. 

“In the trial you said that you did not see any 
fracas.” 

“I’m like Haggerty O’Donnell at times, don’t you 
know, Percy,” she smiled roguishly. “You couldn’t 
expect me to see a fight, if O’Donnell didn’t have 
the nerve to make an arrest. I’m ashamed of papa. 
The idea of spanking an old man like a child ! ’ ’ 

“Whose boat?” he nodded, pointing to a neat little 
craft anchored nearby. 

“Mine,” she replied. “Dad gave me the Pelican 
as a birthday gift last year.” 

“Some craft,” he remarked. 

“How would you like a ride?” 

‘ ‘ Splendid ! Can you manage her ? ” he inquired. 

“Indeed I can !” she cried, running down the bank. 
“Come, Miss Smithe, let us be going.” 

In a few moments the little boat was puffing up 
the river toward the city. 

“Let me run it,” he said, taking hold of the lever. 
“I can drive her.” 

“Do you know anything about motors?” 

“Yes, considerable. You know, I saw one in a 
hardware store a week ago,” he stammered. 

“I know you are an expert on engines.” 

“Yes, on human engines,” he replied, glancing at 
her fair face. “You see, I have made a special study 
of the heart.” 


[83] 


ARCHDEACOISr PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 

^‘Then I suppose you can define a heart, Percy?’’ 

“Yes, indeed. A heart is a human organ that cir- 
culates the blood, being the vital part of the human 
body.” And he added presently, “It is also the seat 
of the affections, especially love.” 

‘ ‘ Being an expert on the heart, how would you de- 
fine love ? ’ ’ 

He looked at her intently for a few moments to 
see whether she was serious or not. She seemed to 
be, then he said : 

“Love is the devoted fondness and attachment to 
one of the opposite sex.” 

For an instant, a faint smile played on her lips 
just as he looked at her again. He fiushed angrily 
and asked : 

“Are you making fun of me ?” 

“No, indeed,” she said; “I’ve never been so seri- 
ous in all my life. ’ ’ 

They were now fast approaching the pier. Miss 
Smithe, who had fallen asleep, was now awakened 
and the little party prepared to go ashore. In effect- 
ing a landing, as the water was very shallow, it was 
necessary to wade to the pier. He carried Miss 
Smithe and set her down safely on the dry plat- 
form. Returning, he picked up the girl with strong 
arms and carried her along. She was fascinated by 
the power and strength of his arms, feeling suddenly 
very small and weak. He swung her up on the pier, 
climbing up after her with the agility of a cat. Miss 
Smithe consented to go ahead on the trolley, gener- 

[84] 


THE WATER NYMPH 


ously agreeing to leave Julia in the Archdeacon’s 
care, as the young people preferred to walk. 

After reaching the Skinner home they sat down on 
the front porch for a while. The Judge was nowhere 
to be seen. He took her hand gently and she did not 
object seriously. 

“Be careful, papa might walk up,” she murmured 
shyly, smoothing her hair over her brow. 

“Do you think he would object, Julia?” 

“He might, you know. One can never tell.” 

“Well, now, of course, I didn’t mean any harm.” 

“You don’t look like it,” she laughed, for he still 
held her tiny hand. 

Rising, he looked at her longingly, and started for 
home. 

“Good-bye, Julia,” he said, raising his hat and 
bowing. ' 

“Au revoir,” she replied, waving her dainty hand. 

He paused and then said thickly, “When may I 
come back?” 

“Whenever you wish, my dear,” she answered 
affectionately. 


[85] 


CHAPTER XI 


THE LONESOME DOCTOR 

That evening Dr. Lament sat before a crackling 
fire as the nights were rather cool. He had arrived at 
the Skinner home coming from Warrentown as he had 
some business to transact with the Judge. About 
nine o’clock the Judge was called to his office, leaving 
the younger people in the study. Lament had always 
thought a great deal of Julia and had decided to take 
unto himself a wife. 

“Did you have a nice time at Lonesome this sum- 
mer?” she asked. 

“Yes, but I am very lonesome now over at Warren- 
town, ’ ’ he replied. 

“You are joking,” she answered swinging her arms 
to and fro, standing before the grate. 

“I am very serious, on the other hand, Julia.” 

“You men are all flatterers.” 

‘ ‘ Come dear, I Ve known you for many years. How 
would you like to preside over the destinies of the 
rectory at Warrentown?” 

“You’d better ask papa first,” she said, “and if 
he consents I think you will have to win my consent 
too.” 

‘ ‘ I shall see him later as I have a pressing engage- 

[ 86 ] 


THE LONESOME DOCTOR 


ment Miss Julia;” he bowed respectfully, leaving the 
girl in a state of excitementr 

On the following evening the doctor called at the 
Skinner home about seven, finding Timothy Crabbit 
comfortably seated playing cards with Julia and 
other members of the famly. After a cordial hand- 
shaking all around, the rector insisted that they resume 
their playing; he sat down by Julia and watched the 
fun — an interesting game of bridge ; she was as beauti- 
ful as he had ever seen her and she seemed to realize 
with satisfaction that he was thoroughly aware of it. 
About seven-thirty the Archdeacon put in an affable 
appearance to the surprise as well as pleasure of all 
present. After a few minutes of fun it was decided 
that all should go to the theatre ; the ladies were ready 
in a very short time and the party left in high spirits. 

Simthfield dames were astonished when the polished 
gossips passed the latest scandal about the community 
next morning. Just think of it! The rector of 
Warrentown was seen to escort Miss Skinner to the 
dress circle in the Imperial last night. It was a 
shame — she was so young — he must be old enough to 
be her father ! Something ought to be done about it. 

In a few days Crabbit called at the Skinner home. 
Julia received him pleasantly and after several feeble 
attempts, he proposed; she promptly refused, begin- 
ning to talk about current events. 

‘ ‘ So you won 't have me Julia ? ’ ^ 

‘ ‘ No Mr. Crabbit. I am not for you. ’ ’ 

“Well who is the lucky man?” he cried. 

[87] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


‘ ‘ I shall not discuss the matter further, ’ ’ she replied 
kindly extending her hand. The young man bowed 
and withdrew in great haste. 

Inside of a fortnight the eloquent cleric of Warren- 
town had made a convincing speech in the Skinner 
home and won the hand of the lovely daughter residing 
there. The old Judge laughing, remarked that the 
family wealth and the Lament brains ought to make 
a great combination. One day he found his only child 
under the rose arbor in the rear of the house busily 
engaged in needlework. ‘ ‘ I love to crochet, papa, ’ ’ she 
smiled, looking for a moment into his dear old eyes. 

“Well my dearest how do you like Fletcher?” he 
said parrying her references to her sewing ; something 
in fact that had never interested him in the least, 
except, when his clothing needed repair. 

“Papa dear, you know that you have always said 
that a person is as young as they feel,” she replied 
shyly, “and Fletcher said yesterday that he felt like 
an eighteen year old school boy. So according to your 
philosophy he is just eighteen, dad !” 

“Well it is rather young Julia, but I suppose it 
will be all right. ’ ’ 

“Mother always aproved of early marriages you 
know,” she reminded. 

“Lament will be the future Bishop, God willing, 
and my dear daughter, while he is a little old for you, 
he is a fine, broadened man ; eminently fitted for our 
glorious Episcopate and incidentally to be the husband 
of my only daughter ! ’ ’ 


[ 88 ] 


THE LONESOME DOCTOR 


“Papa you are certainly optimistic, really, I be- 
lieve you are falling in love with Lament yourself.” 

The dog began to bark furiously, his master looked 
toward the house to see who was approaching; Pon- 
sonby shuffled out of the kitchen door and informed his 
master, between mouthfuls of gooseberry pie, that the 
Archdeacon of Smithfield was in the parlor and wished 
to see Miss Julia at once. The white-haired Justice 
stood erect and said, 

‘ ‘ Inform the reverend gentleman that Miss Skinner 
will join him in a few moments, meanwhile I will 
speak to her.” 

“Keep a stiff upper lip my child,” cautioned her 
father, as she left for the house. 

“Yes daddy dear,” she replied and vanished around 
the corner. 

‘ ‘ Why, good evening Archdeacon, ’ ^ she said holding 
out her hand in greeting, “ it is a pleasure to have you 
with us again. My, how well you look!” 

“I certainly do not feel good since the latest news 
has gone abroad. Miss Skinner.” 

‘ ‘ What news do you refer to ? ” 

“Why your engagement to Lamont.” 

“Did you see it in the paper?” 

“Yes and George Dolittle informed me of it per- 
sonally.” 

“Is he in town?” she queried. 

“He was in the hotel lobby down town at eleven 
0 ’clock. ’ ’ 

“By the way, when is the event coming off?” 

m 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“I suppose before the Christmas bells ring/’ she 
smiled. 

‘ ‘ I wish you every happiness, ’ ’ he replied evenly. 

‘'Thank you sir, thank you indeed,” she answered 
gratefully. 

She stood watching him as he disappeared down the 
street with a dignified stride. She reflected, that she 
had given him every reason for hope and now she was 
sending him away without a single word of comfort. 

The Archdeacon was crushed, but outwardly he was 
the same cheerful man to all who knew him, for she 
had been foremost in his thoughts for several years; 
he would never forget how sweet she looked when he 
saw her the first time in his first parish at Kildare. 
Now he would ruin Lamont and publish to the world 
all of his nefarious schemes; it would be war to the 
death, for Lamont belonged to the Evangelical party 
and had stolen the girl of his dreams ! He hurried up 
to Skinner’s office and requested the contents of his 
private box. He could not bear the thought of leaving 
them there any longer. Two clerks stood by as the 
Judge unlocked the box and handed the contents to 
Prettyman. Hurrying down to the State Bank, he 
deposited a tiny box and a long blue envelope, and 
withdrew a packet which he placed gingerly into his 
pocket. 

Hailing a passing taxi, he instructed the driver to 
carry him to the third door beyond St. James’ place. 
The editor of the Smithfield Churchman met him at the 
door with a smooth, genial smile. After leading him 

[ 90 ] 


THE LONESOME DOCTOE 


into his sanctum, he passed the cigarettes and began. 

‘ ‘ Any news Percy ? ’ ’ 

“Why yes, I have some.” 

“What is the nature of it?” Smooth asked. 

‘ ‘ Once upon a time a small man travelled to another 
city; and stole a copy of some important documents. 
Returning to the place from whence he came, he placed 
them into the custody of a man who had a private 
vault. The editor of a certain paper, learning about 
the exact location of these documents, secured them 
and locked them up in his own private office near St. 
James’ place. Not long afterwards they were stolen 
from an editor’s safe, and carried to a room upstairs 
in the Antlers Hotel where they were recovered. The 
man who recovered them stands before you.” 

‘ ‘ Have you a copy of those original papers ? ’ ’ 

“Yes and I will give them to you under one con- 
dition.” 

“Name it.” 

“That you publish all of these documents, which 
will expose Dr. Lament’s political activities, and ruin 
forever the leadership and influence of that protestant 
bigot. Further, you must announce to the world that 
I have from this day forward joined the Ritualistic 
party and will represent them in the race. Also you 
will announce in your paper, that in all probability 
young C rabbit will not stand as a candidate. 

“Agreed,” said Smooth briskly, “hand me the 
papers.” 

The Archdeacon handed Smooth the papers and 

[91] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


watched him open the package with alacrity. He 
spread them out all over the table, thirteen pieces in 
all ; unlucky number. Dolittle had picked them up in 
the Antlers that night; there were just eight empty 
envelopes and five letters to wholesale firms. Both 
men stared at each other speechless with rage and 
disappointment. Just then the phone rang with Dr. 
Lamont of Warrentown on the wire. 

‘ ‘ Is this you Smooth, ’ ’ 

“Yes Dr. Lamont,” he answered. 

“When you see Prettyman tell him not to worry 
about that false packet of letters. ’ ’ 

“I dont’ understand what you mean,” stammered 
Smooth in reply. 

‘ ‘ Percy ought to know. He is sitting beside you. ^ ’ 
laughed the doctor “so Judson informed me five 
minutes ago.” 

The two men were dumbfounded, for Lamont 
seemed to be a veritable Sherlock Holmes ! 


[ 92 ] 


CHAPTER XII 


THE ARCHDEACON PREVAILS 

Five days later there was an important meeting at 
the rectory in Warrentown. Lamont, Dolittle, Fox 
and Smooth were present, being seated around the 
library table. It was decided to eliminate the Arch- 
deacon from diocesan politics. He had tried to ruin 
Lamont, even urging him to leave the diocese; he 
had given Lamont ten days in which to resign and 
it was not a bluff, either! 

“Smooth, you see Timothy Crabbit tomorrow,’’ 
Lamont said, ‘ ‘ and tell him to see to it that Percy is 
not nominated during the convention.” 

“I will, indeed, Fletcher, and I wish to withdraw 
my support of Prettyman for all time to come. I’ll 
support you with my paper, although I know you 
are opposed to its politics.” 

“Thank you. Dr. Smooth,” and, he continued, 
turning towards Dolittle, “George, inform him when 
you go up to Smithfield that he will be tendered 
the Archdeaconship, if he will give up the race and 
unite with us. ’ ’ 

“You are offering a pretty big job for a few votes, 
doctor,” replied the curate in surprise. 

“Tut — tut! We could remove him shortly after 
his appointment, if necessary.” 

[ 93 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


Young Crabbit felt overjoyed when the glad news 
came to him; for he had never had much hope of 
winning in the election — the curacy was a sort of 
a hopeless proposition anyway. He was itching to 
become the next Archdeacon of Smithfield. 

He wired Lament at once. 

‘H will be glad to accept your proposition. Depend 
upon me to give you my heartfelt support!” 

Lament smiled when he received the telegram, then 
filed it away carefully. What would Prettyman do? 
Of course, he could defeat Percy now, because the 
two Church papers would help him. But why was he 
keeping quiet? 

A few days passed away and Lament prepared for 
the battle that was to come before the election. 
Prettyman spent a great deal of time on the district 
talking politics to people everywhere. Lament had 
now perfected plans whereby Bishop Grumble and 
Horace Bottomly would come down to the Smithfield 
convention and help squash Archdeacon Prettyman 
for all time! And next week he’d send George on 
a trip through the diocese in order to see what the 
Venerable had been doing. 

Twenty-four hours later the Archdeacon of Smith- 
field got busy and knocked the spots off from some of 
Lamont’s plans. He crawled out of his place of re- 
tirement and loaded up his battery of machine guns. 
The doctor, Dolittle and Bottomly were there for the 
speech to be delivered at seven-thirty. 

“Brethren,” the Archdeacon began with a broad 

[ 94 ] 


THE ARCHDEACON PREVAILS 


smile playing about his weak mouth, “this campaign 
will soon be over. Fletcher Lament will withdraw 
in my favor. He doesn’t believe it yet, but I know 
that he will do it.” 

“That man is crazy,” Lamont laughed. 

The Archdeacon continued. 

“The Evangelicals will endorse me, although I 
have united with the other wing; they will support 
me because Boss Lamont will tell them to do it.” 

Then the Archdeacon of Smithfield told how Tim- 
othy Crabbit was to have the Archdeaconship in re- 
turn for his support of Lamont. The latter was 
greatly worried because the public had never had 
a hint of this before, and how in the devil did Percy 
hear about it ! 

Following this, Prettyman spoke briefly of a little 
incident that occurred out near St. James’ place one 
evening. Lamont and his curate were seen to enter 
a certain building and leave for the city a few min- 
utes later, taking with them certain papers of great 
interest to the Church at large. 

“Go after them, Percy,” cried the voice of 
Archibald Pott. “You’ll win bye and bye.” 

“Wait until I get my second wind, Archibald!” 
grinned Prettyman. 

“Shoot their feathers off, Percy,” cried Pott, 
throwing up his dusty hat and catching it again. 

The Archdeacon laughed and introduced Mr. Mike 
McNielly of the local detective agency, who bowed 
respectfully. The cleric deliberately poured out a 
drink of cold water, drank it hastily and wiped his 
forehead with a cotton handkerchief. Lamont now 
[ 95 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


moved toward the front of the vast hall, rapidly fill- 
ing with laymen. He stood quietly awaiting the 
Archdeacon’s next political move. That worthy man 
spoke a few words to McNielly and then walked over 
to the center of the platform in an earnest manner. 

“Brethren, men of the diocese of Smithfield,” he 
cried with set face and eyes hashing, “in a few mo- 
ments you are going to find out that brother Lament 
is unworthy of public trust! Listen to the state- 
ments of Mr. McNielly, who is a trusted agent of our 
police force.” 

“Do you know Dr. Lament?” continued Pretty- 
man. 

“Yes, sir,” replied the Irishman. 

“Have you had any dealings with him recently?” 

“Yes, not so very long ago.” 

“What was the nature of your relationship?” 

“He employed me to do an inside job.” 

“Be more explicit, please,” insisted the Arch- 
deacon. 

“Fowkes, our night boss, sent us out with Lamont 
to bust open a safe in the office of the Smithfield 
Churchman. ’ ’ 

“When did this crime occur?” 

“On the evening of the eighth of September at 
ten o’clock.” 

“Did Lamont tell you to wreck the safe?” 

“No, but he told me to open it.” 

“What kind of explosive did you use?” 

“I never used any, for I can open any safe made 

[9b] 


THE ARCHDEACON PREVAILS 


inside of five minutes without infiicting much dam- 
age.” 

‘‘So this distinguished clergyman stood by and 
watched you rob a safe in the night, and then wreck 
it?” 

“Yes, sir, but you are partly in error, for I did 
not cause the terrible explosion. That was caused 
by other parties later.” 

“Did you give Lament the stolen property?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“What did he do with them?” 

“I do not know, for Judson and I left him at the 
corner of Washington and Queen.” 

“What did he pay you for the job?” 

“He gave me and Judson a hundred dollars 
apiece.” 

Lament motioned to his friends and they left the 
hall at once. White as chalk, the rector stepped into 
the car, which sped away like a demon. 

There was a painful silence in the gathering of 
laymen, as the detective continued relating his ex- 
perience with Lamont. Then pandemonium broke 
loose; men yelled and jeered for fifteen minutes! 
Chairs were knocked as men rushed forward to grasp 
the hand of a new-born leader, Percy Prettyman, 
Archdeaon of Smithfield 1 

The meeting broke up and over one hundred men 
stopped at the Antlers Hotel. Lamont was upstairs 
and heard them singing and laughing down in the 
lobby and felt that his power was lost. He was 

[ 97 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


sacrificed, betrayed and forsaken by men whom he 
had grown to love in sincerity and truth — this weak 
unstable Archdeacon had become an idol. Lamont 
had been whipped to a finish in a wonderful game of 
ecclesiastical politics, a modern institution erected 
upon the ruins of a dying Christianity! He won- 
dered if he could ever get back into the game, for 
everything looked black to him. He trembled with 
righteous anger and mortification. 

The next morning after breakfast he went into the 
reception room, sat down and looked out into the 
busy thoroughfare with a listless expression on his 
pale features. Presently a soft hand fell upon his 
shoulders. He turned and looked into the face of 
Swift, a reporter of the city paper. Would the doc- 
tor please give him some news ? Lamont caught hold 
of him somewhere, stepped over to the open window, 
and dropped his unwelcome burden. In just two sec- 
onds the reporter had dropped into the coal-chute, 
knocking down the nigger fireman at the other end. 

^‘Lordy massa! Where am dis nigger? I ’spects 
dat — dat blow in de kidney will give me de lum- 
bagey,” cried Sambo, extricating himself from the 
pile of falling coal. 

A crestfallen reporter of the Smithfield North- 
western limped over to the basement window, look- 
ing with horror at his clothing. The swift trip had 
been made on his stomach, hence his clothing was a 
fast black in front, including the face, and an im- 
maculate cream color in the rear. 


[98] 


THE ARCHDEACON PREVAILS 


“Is you a black man or white?” queried the 
nigger. 

Swift threw his shoulders back and looked haugh- 
tily into the negro 's face. 

“Do you want to earn fifty cents?” 

“Dat am my secon’ name, suh.” 

“Then take this ten dollars and hurry over to 
Cohen’s, buy me a light suit, towel and soap; steal 
a bucket of water somewhere, and don’t forget to 
come back.” 

Two hours later Swift walked into the news office 
downtown in a pleasant frame of mind. Soon his 
friends began laughing, pointing towards his feet. 
He looked down and was mortified to discover that 
his trousers were six inches too short. He made two 
firm resolutions; never again would he disturb the 
meditations of a preacher, and secondly, he would 
never allow another negro to buy a suit of clothes 
for him. 

At ten-thirty Judge Skinner sat talking with 
Lament in the hotel. 

“We must keep this affair out of the papers,” said 
the Judge thoughtfully. 

“I’ve already wired Fox at Warrentown to keep 
quiet,” replied the doctor. 

“I’ll call up Smooth now,” answered Skinner, 
walking to the telephone booth. In five minutes he 
came back flushed and alarmed. 

“Get your hat and come with me.” 

The two men hurried out, hailed a passing car, 
yelled an address at the driver, and were gone. 

[ 99 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


Without formality they were ushered into the edi- 
tor’s office of the city paper. Would he please re- 
frain from publishing the proceedings of last night ’s 
meeting? He could not oblige them, as the matter 
had already gone to press. 

“Very well,” the Judge replied, “you owe me 
twenty thousand dollars long overdue. I shall insti- 
tute foreclosure proceedings tomorrow!” 

The two men started to leave, when the editor 
cried, “Not a word will be published, if you will call 
it square.” 

“Square is the word,” laughed the Judge, leading 
the doctor out. 

Twenty minutes later, the pair sat in Smooth’s 
office talking. 

“What are you going to do about printing the 
news of the latest squabble. Smooth?” asked the 
older man. 

“You may count on my silence,” he replied, “for 
I pledged my support to Lamont and intend to back 
him with all my resources.” 

“Thank you. Smooth,” said the rector of Warren- 
town, “I shall never forget your kindness; especially 
since many are turning against me. ’ ’ 

“There is one thing I would like to clear up, 
Lamont,” said the editor of the Church paper. 

“Out with it,” he smiled. 

“I wonder when there is going to be a wedding?” 
laughed Smooth. 

“When I’ve run all of the crooks into a hole,” 
replied Lamont. 

[lOO] 


CHAPTER Xni 


A VETERAN PLOTTER 

Judge Skinner smiled into the lovely face of his 
daughter, who sat across from him at the tea-table. 

“I heard from Fletcher last night,” she remarked. 

“What did he say?” 

“He asked me not to feel worried about the politi- 
cal situation.” 

Her father removed his pipe and blew a cloud of 
smoke to the ceiling. 

“Why should you worry, Julia?” he inquired. 

“Well dear, you know there are some things in 
politics which do not look well in print. Last night 
Prettyman made a terrible attack upon Fletcher.” 

Skinner listened attentively, but did not seem to be 
perturbed. 

“Why should we worry?” he asked. 

“I think papa, that he has been very kind and 
thoughtful to us,” she explained sweetly. “He is 
very considerate toward me. You know dad, a Church 
politician, a man in Fletcher’s position is liable to a 
prolonged and bitter attack, when standing out against 
a small determined pack of enemies.” 

‘ ‘ Come child, ’ ’ laughed the father, ‘ ‘ I ought to know 
as I heard the speech last night.” 

‘ ‘ Oh dad, you old teaser ! How can you deceive me 

[lOl] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


like that ? Tell me what was really going on. I didn’t 
see anything in the papers this morning.” 

‘ ‘ Percy was slinging some mud, little girl. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ How did his audience receive it ? ” 

“Dear me! Why the cheering was deafening.” 

“Wouldn’t that indicate that Lament’s cause was 
lost,” she continued while brushing off the crumbs 
from the table. 

“Not in the least,” replied her father, for you know 
that we have over twenty thousand members in the 
diocese ; the Archdeacon scoured the country and only 
two hundred responded and attended the meeting.” 

“Will you stand by Fletcher through thick and thin 
dad ? ’ ’ she requested looking gravely into his eyes. 

“Yes child, you must know I am under some obliga- 
tions to him. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ What for instance ? ’ ’ 

“Well if you must know, he had influence enough 
to make it possible for me to win the office of County 
Judge last year.” 

“I didn’t know that the clergy entered secular 
politics. ’ ’ she replied. 

“They don’t Julia,” smiled the Judge, puffing on 
the briar pipe, “they just help out their friends in the 
capacity of private individuals.” 

‘ ‘ Do you think that his friends will elect you again 
this year ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I don ’t know, but I am not going to lose any sleep 
about it. Come dear, let us go out and count the 

[ 102 ] 


A VETERAN PLOTTER 


roses, ’ ’ he said gaily, rising and leading her out to the 
beautiful arbor. 

“Do you think daddy, that there is any chance for 
Fletcher to fail ? ’ ’ 

“There is always a chance for any man to be de- 
feated,’’ the old man told her tenderly. “I believe 
my dear, that you ought to wait in patience until you 
can have a long personal chat with your bethrothed. 
No doubt he can speak in a language that you can 
understand.” 

“Tell me one thing papa?” she begged, “Did 
Prettyman accuse Fletcher of dishonor ? ’ ’ 

“Yes my dear, but you know he wants the job and 
will stoop to anything to get it. ’ ’ 

Julia Skinner smiled for she was learning the ways 
of the Church, the world and the devil. The Church 
and her sacraments were pure and holy she mused, 
but snobs and hypocrites held many places of emolu- 
ment in Zion. 

That evening, down town, Bottomly and Dolittle 
had a private conference in the former’s office. In a 
few minutes Timothy Crabbit joined them. The old 
Bishop was failing in health and an assistant would 
be needed at once as there was much work to be done 
throughout the district ; classes were desirous of being 
confirmed, and many things of importance were await- 
ing the decision of diocesan. Something must be done 
about it! Would the Bishop call a special convention 
in the latter part of October ? They looked inquiringly 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


at the Bishop’s son. He did not know a thing about 
the matter. 

Bottomly had secretly hated Lament for a number 
of years; it was not hard to understand why. On a 
memorable occasion he had asked for a transfer to a 
more lucrative missionary post in a large city; the 
Bishop was visiting at Warrentown at the time and 
requested Lament’s opinion; it had been decided un- 
favorable and so he, Bottomly, had been compelled to 
remain in Smithfield. 

Of course the Bishop had felt impelled to keep him 
as he regarded him as a valuable man, etc ; Bottomly 
had read between the lines and knew that Lamont was 
the real culprit. In order to insure the defeat of his 
enemy, it would be splendid diplomacy to persuade 
Dolittle to betray his master. There was no time like 
the present so he began : 

‘ ‘ Has Lamont raised your salary George ? ’ ’ 

“Not yet, sir,” the man replied. 

‘ ‘ Do you think that he cares a damn for you ? ’ ’ 
sneered the old fellow 

“Well yes, he has been like a father to me.” 

“You are lining up with a man who is politically 
dead Dolittle!” 

‘ ‘ I know that and I wonder what I should do about 
it.” 

‘ ‘ If you will leave him and come to us, we will never 
forget your timely help, ’ ’ cackled Horace. 

“Well, I will do it — am sick and tired of Lamont 


[104] 


A VETERAN PLOTTER 


and all of his doings anyway — fire away and tell me 
what to do. ’ ’ 

“Are you in dead earnest, George DolittleT’ 

“Yes, sir!’^ 

“Will you obey my orders ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, sir!” 

“Well, find out just where Lamont has placed his 
private papers ; when you locate them secure them at 
once if possible ; if you need help let me or McNielly 
know and we will fiy to your assistance at the earliest 
possible moment. If you treat us square we will ad- 
vance you to a position of great power and infiuence. ’ ’ 

“Whom do you represent anyway?’’ asked the 
young man. “Not long ago you were very friendly 
with the rector of Warrentown.” 

“I represent the advanced party now,” he chirped. 
“Of course I used to hobnob with the Evangelicals 
now and then.” 

Dolittle left for Warrentown. 

Lamont and his esteemed curate reviewed the situa- 
tion leisurely. They were thorough friends beyond 
the shadow of a doubt; win or lose, George Dolittle 
intended to stand by his rector in those dark hours, 
and his grey eyes fiashed ominously. 

“We got to do a little detective work doctor!” 

Then the curate related his conversation with 
Bottomly reciting in detail the whole plot. 

“George it is a pity to waste time in trapping the 
evil-minded instead of leading men and women to 
God.” 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“I agree with you, doctor! What do you think 
that we had better do ? ” 

“Well go ahead and I will see you through/’ 

“What plan shall we adopt in order to finish them 
for good?” asked the curate. 

‘ ‘ I will fix up a packet of letters which will be a true 
copy of the originals, with the exception of a clause or 
phrase omitted now and then ; it will be a good plan 
to do this as you might lose them. ’ ’ 

Dolittle left on the interurban for Smithfield the 
next morning. At Sheridan, the rector of that place 
Mr. Dorsey boarded the car. Seeing Dolittle, he 
came forward with a smile and sat down with him at 
once. 

‘ ‘ What ’s the news in the diocese, George ? I ’ve been 
so busy building a new church here, that I haven’t 
time to read a paper. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ They tell me there is going to be a special conven- 
tion,” said Dolittle. 

“Haven’t heard a word about it,” he answered 
sneezing, ‘ ‘ but I know one thing, that the clergy ought 
to pay more attention to their own business and stop 
meddling in politics. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I agree with you Dorsey, ’ ’ replied Dolittle. 

The car now swung around the corner of Queen 
Street and St. James’ place. 

“Seems as though things look normal again,” said 
the Sheridan rector, noticing a massive steel safe 
standing outside with a twisted door. 

“Yes, but they haven’t found the ones who blew her 
[io6] 


A VETERAN PLOTTER 


yet,” he laughed, “and I don^t suppose they ever 
will.” 

The two men shook hands and separated. 

Reaching Smithfield, he hurried to Bottomly’s office 
arriving there in a very short time. That individual 
had evidently been in an affray, judging by his appear- 
ance; his left eye was highly discolored and badly 
swollen. 

“Good morning Mr. Bottomly,” he cried entering 
the office. 

“Good morning.” 

‘ ‘ I notice you have a sore eye ; did you fall out of 
bed or down stairs last night?” 

‘ ‘ Neither, ’ ’ chirped the old man. “ I ’ve just had an 
altercation with that man Pott.” 

“Did you really get into a fight with him, 
Bottomly?” 

“Yes indeed ! He came in here and called me a turn- 
coat, because I joined the right wing recently. This 
is a free country and I can be a Ritualist if I want to. ’ ' 

“Sure thing Bottomly,” replied Dolittle, “you can 
join the Mormons if you want to. Who struck the first 
blow Horace ? ’ ’ 

“I did and ITl have him arrested besides,” he 
screamed. “ I T1 tell the Bishop on him to-morrow. ’ ^ 

“I have the papers Bottomly and have followed 
your instructions to the letter. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Give them to me at once ! ’ ’ And the little man ’s 
eyes sparkled with excitement. 

[ 107 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


^‘Not on your life, Mr. Horace Bottomly,” he cried, 
pretending to be angry, ‘‘until you place me into a 
position of prominence first.’’ 

Bottomly flatly refused and Dolittle hurried away. 


[io8] 




‘I WON’T LET ANYBODY KNOCK MY EYES OUT.” HE YELLED. 

Page 109. 


CHAPTER XIV 


BOTTOMLY LOSES HIS CROWN 

True to his word, Bottomly reported the fight to his 
Bishop the next day. Dr. Crahbit did not have any 
use for Bottomly, but put up with him on account 
of his distant relationship to Dr. Smooth. Smooth 
was a heavy contributor to various Church enter- 
prises as well as one of her most distinguished 
editors. 

“Be seated, Horace,” replied the venerable prelate. 
“Is there anything I can do for you today?” 

“Yes, Bishop. I came over to prefer charges 
against Rev. Archibald Pott, who struck me in the 
face yesterday, nearly knocking my eye out. ’ ’ 

“Too bad! Too bad!” answered the white-haired 
man feebly. “Why is it, Horace, that you can’t get 
along with your brethren?” 

“I’ve been in the diocese for over forty years and 
I won’t let anybody knock my eyes out,” he yelled. 

“Take my advice, Horace, and let the matter 
drop,” replied the good man mildly. “Your eye will 
heal up in a few days and then you can see again.” 

Bottomly took a small envelope out of his pocket 
and handed it to the Bishop with great dignity. It 
was a formal declaration of war. Horace Bottomly 
accused one Archibald Pott of conduct unbecoming a 


[109] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


clergyman. The Bishop looked it over and informed 
him that he would appoint the trial to occur on the 
following Monday in the parish house. 

Bottomly thanked the Bishop and left for his office. 
Within twenty-four hours he had employed an attor- 
ney, who took up the case immediately. Pott secured 
the legal services of Judge Skinner. 

Dean Goodman was shocked to receive word Sun- 
day evening that the Bishop had suffered another 
stroke. A night letter was sent to Bishop Grumble 
explaining the situation and begging him to come 
at once in order to be on hand for the trial on Mon- 
day. That worthy gentleman grumbled for about 
an hour after receiving the message, as he had 
planned to go fishing with some friends on the fol- 
lowing day. Mrs. Grumble succeeded in pacifying 
him by ten o’clock that evening. 

Inasmuch as Bottomly had caused a fiurry of ex- 
citement during his previous trial, his late conflict 
with Pott aroused the friends of both men to fever 
heat. The news spread like wild-fire throughout the 
district and every minister who could possibly get 
away from his work left Monday morning for the 
trial. The laymen at Warrentown chartered a spe- 
cial car to carry a large delegation. Practically 
every train brought in visiting Churchmen. 

At one o’clock the great doors of the Cathedral 
opened, and a throng of people poured into the great 
edifice, eager to secure a seat. The plaintiff, Horace 
Bottomly, had engaged the legal services of Hon. 

[no] 


BOTTOMLY LOSES HIS CROWN 


Allen Quick, a member of the local bar. Pott and 
his adviser sat directly across from them. Bishop 
Grumble sat upon an elevated platform, especially 
erected for the occasion. It had been carried in from 
the parish house, where the trial was to have been 
held. Bishop Grumble grumbled and was beside him- 
self with anger when he saw hundreds of people 
gathering in front of the parish house. He ordered 
Ponsonby to open up the Cathedral, cleared the decks 
of his spiritual battleship, drank a glass of water, 
and prepared for action. 

The Bishop sat down. Reaching over, he took 
hold of the gavel with a large hand, raised it, and 
brought it down with a terrific blow upon the table 
in front of him. Several people in the rear of the 
Church continued talking. 

“Order in the Court,’’ roared Grumble; “I’ll ap- 
point Dean Goodman clerk of the Court, and Pon- 
sonby sergeant-at-arms. ’ ’ 

The buzzing continued in the rear of the Church. 

“Ponsonby,” yelled the Court, “keep order back 
there !” 

Ponsonby obeyed the order with haste and pro- 
ceeded to expel one of the worst offenders from the 
premises — a second-cousin of Dr. Smooth. Ponsonby 
dragged his unwilling comrade as far as the outer 
door, when a dozen friends rushed to his rescue. 
They proceeded to inflict bodily injuries upon the 
sergeant, and in the rumpus knocked the door open, 
which threw them down the steps, landing in a heap. 

[Ill] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


0 ’Donnell was walking by just that moment and see- 
ing the trouble, ran over at once. 

“Arrest Smooth, officer,” cried Ponsonby; “he 
was disturbing the peace in God’s house.” It was 
a very hot day, and just at that moment there was a 
howl of rage across the street. A mad dog was chas- 
ing an animal belonging to Dr. Samuel down the 
street. The little group watched the pursuit for 
some time, and as far as they could see O’Donnell 
was still running after the beast. The Irishman had 
unfortunately lost his gun that morning. 

In the meantime the trial was proceeding with 
great dignity. Who should come and sit down but 
the battle-scarred Ponsonby! Dean Goodman was 
reading the complaint. It seemed that Horace 
Bottomly and Archibald Pott had been engaged in an 
altercation ; Bottomly had at one time supported the 
Evangelicals, and at another time the Ritualists. 
Pott was indignant and called him a turn-coat, pure 
and simple. Bottomly then assaulted Pott, who re- 
taliated, smiting his adversary in the eye. He, 
Bottomly, felt that it was expedient to expel him from 
the Church entirely. Dean Goodman finished read- 
ing and sat down. 

Attorney Quick requested that Bottomly state the 
facts of the case, which he did quickly. Pott like- 
wise took the stand and gave his view of the conflict. 
Bottomly ’s stenographer. Miss Murdy, took the 
stand. Quick began to question her. 

“Where did Pott strike Bottomly?” 

[ 112 ] 


BOTTOMLY LOSES HIS CROWN 


‘‘In the right eye,” replied Miss Murdy. 

“What was Pott doing just before he struck 
Bottomly ? ’ ’ 

“He was quarreling with my employer.” 

“Did Pott start the trouble?” 

“Yes,” she replied. 

“In what manner?” 

“He struck Mr. Bottomly in my presence.” 

“Take the witness,” said Quick, turning her over 
to Skinner. 

“Miss Murdy, at what hour did Pott strike Bot- 
tomly?” 

“At eight o’clock in the morning.” 

“That is all,” replied the Judge. 

“Dr. Puller will now take the stand,” said Dean 
Goodman. 

‘ ‘ So you are a dentist, I understand ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, sir,” he replied. 

“Is Miss Murdy one of your patients?” 

“Yes, sir!” 

“When did you treat her last?” 

“On the morning of the Pott-Bottomly fight.” 

“What hour did she come to your office?” 

“From seven forty-five until nine o’clock.” 

“Are you sure of that?” 

“Positive, sir 1” 

Judge Grumble now declared that in his opinion 
the case should be taken under advisement for fifteen 
minutes. The great congregation began to break up 
into groups. At the expiration of the recess, the 

[" 3 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


Judge took his seat and began to speak : 

‘ ‘ Brethren, the evidence submitted by the plaintiff, 
Mr. Horace Bottomly, Esq., amounts to nothing. In 
the first place, he is a man who delights in quarreling 
with his brethren, and takes special pleasure in mak- 
ing them quarrel with him. He is the champion 
meddler and bigot of the diocese. After forty years 
of residence, he could not name a dozen friends, if 
his life depended upon it. Just now his secretary 
has been proven guilty of perjury, due, no doubt, to 
his malevolent infiuence. It gives me great pleasure, 
therefore, to excommunicate Miss Murdy and Mr. 
Horace Bottomly from the fellowship of this 
Church.’’ Then the Court struck the table a heavy 
blow with his gavel, to emphasize his sentence. 

Bottomly arose and started to leave. 

‘‘Hold on, Bottomly,” roared the Court, “I have 
a few words to speak to you!” 

The little trouble-maker sat down, speechless with 
rage. “You may have been in this jurisdiction for 
forty years, but you’ll never be in it again for forty 
seconds. You have always been loyal to the clergy 
who have come and gone in Smithfield, apparently, 
when in reality you have been their bitterest enemy. 
You won their confidence, time after time, and then 
betrayed them with a smile on your ratty face! 
When your Ritualistic incumbent of Rosedale as- 
saulted his Sunday-school teacher, you defended him. 
For years you have claimed to be a loyal Churchman, 
when, as a matter of fact, you have had more trouble 


BOTTOMLY LOSES HIS CROWN 


in the diocese than ten other people. One of the best 
things that ever happened in the history of the 
Church was when brothers Prettyman and Skinner 
spanked you. I shall regret as long as I live that 
I was not there to help them.’^ Then the Judge 
roared with a loud voice : 

‘ ‘ Ponsonby, take this heretic out of the Church and 
his weak-minded associate!” 

The Judge leaned back in his chair, looking tired 
and worn, when he was heard to mumble: “Good- 
man, call up the Bishop ’s house, tender my respects, 
and tell him I must leave on the next train ; ask him 
if he has any communication to present to the 
meeting.” 

In a few minutes the dean returned and whispered 
a few words to the trial judge. Grumble arose, and 
announced that there would be a special convention 
on the twenty-first of this present month in order 
to elect an assistant Bishop. He appointed Dean 
Goodman and Judge Skinner a committee on ar- 
rangements, instructing them to secure a large repre- 
sentation of delegates. 

“IJl tell you one thing,” screamed an old woman, 
“Mr. Bottomly has not been appreciated.” Several 
others hissed, groaned and disturbed the peace gen- 
erally. Then in a few minutes all was confusion in 
the temple, when Grumble rapped for order. 

“Brethren,” he said, “let us go to the parish 
house and settle our difficulties.” In five minutes the 
parish house was packed with a surging angry mob. 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 

Grumble now stood on a box and addressed the 
assembly. 

“How many people side with BottomlyT’ 

Two men and an old woman walked forward, about 
a dozen others being afraid to take a stand. 
Grumble delivered his final address : 

“Misguided people, be gone ! Don’t bother me any 
more!” 

“Ponsonby, take these three people here out of my 
sight 1 ’ ’ 

Shortly after he turned to the people and said, “I 
think, brethren, we had better pray awhile, as I have 
about lost my religion.” 

The meeting broke up rapidly. Grumble left the 
premises hurriedly, as his train was about due. A 
short distance up the street he met Bottomly, who 
was livid with anger. 

“I’ll see the Bishop tomorrow morning,” he chat- 
tered, exposing a row of yellow teeth, “and have 
this decision reversed. What one Bishop can do, an- 
other has the power to undo!” 

Grumble turned white for a moment, mumbled and 
started in the direction of Bottomly, who began to 
run. The Court was too heavy to catch him, and 
suddenly hearing a faint whistle, he turned about 
and hurried to the station. 

A great trial was over in the diocese of Smithfield 
and Bottomly had received a knock-out blow, being 
excommunicated for unchristian conduct. 


CHAPTER XV 


AN ENGAGEMENT RING 

Lamont stayed at Smithfield that day, calling at the 
Skinner home about eight in the evening. The Judge 
was over at the Bishop ’s house arranging his last will 
and testament. Ponsonby conducted the doctor to 
the reception room, saying that Miss Julia would he 
down in a few moments. Seeing a beautiful bouquet 
of roses near the window, he walked over and lifted 
them up admiringly. On a tiny card attached were 
these words: “To my Water Nymph from P. P.” 
The doctor began to lose his dignity; in fact, he felt 
peeved. Just then Julia came in carrying a red rose 
in her hand. 

“Good evening, Julia. What you got?” 

“Oh, nothing,” replied Miss Skinner, hastily hid- 
ing the rose behind her back. 

“Nothing?” asked Lamont. “Nothing, did you 
say, dearie?” 

“That’s what I said, exactly.” 

“Well, it looks rather funny to me! Where did 
you get that rose, anyway?” 

“I can’t see that it is any of your business,” was 
Julia ’s hasty remark. 

“Perhaps not, dearie. Is dad at home?” 

“No, he isn’t.” 


[117] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


‘ ‘ Oh, he is not, is he ! ^ ^ 

‘ ‘ I said he was not, didn ^t I say ? ’ ^ 

“Well, now where is he?’^ 

“Over at the Bishop’s house on business; where 
did you suppose?” 

“Are you mad at me, Julia?” 

“Who said I was mad?” 

“You said so.” 

“I didn’t.” 

“You did. Do you know what I think?” he in- 
quired. 

“No, I don’t, and further, I don’t care to know.” 

“Well, I’ll inform you anyway. It is my belief 
that Percy gave you that flower. ’ ’ 

“Oh, that’s your belief, is it. Doctor?” 

“Yes; be honest now, Julia, dear, and tell me.” 

“Very well, Fletcher, I’ll tell you immediately. It 
is none of your business. ’ ’ 

• “Well, I want to say right now, that it is my busi- 
ness! Did that Archdeacon give you this rose? 
Answer me at once 1 ’ ’ 

“You make me sick, Fletcher.” 

“If you don’t tell me at once. I’ll call up 
Prettyman and ask him myself I ’ ’ 

“Well, then, if you must know it, Percy did give 
them to me, smart Aleck!” 

“Is that so? Well — ^you just hustle and send it 
back at once! Understand?” 

“I’ll not do it,” she flashed, tapping the floor with 
her pretty foot. 


[ii8] 


AN ENGAGEMENT RING 


“Then I’ll go over to the parish house and give 
him a piece of my mind. He ought to have a good 
licking. ’ ’ 

“Shame on you, Doctor! Percy is a generous, 
kind-hearted man.” 

“I knew you would take his part, but you listen to 
me for once. If you don’t send that rose back this 
minute and — ” then he took up the bouquet and 
added — “and this bouquet. I’ll go over and tell him 
to mind his own business.” 

“You’re the meanest fellow I ever saw, that’s 
what you are !” Julia sobbed. “I don’t like you one 
bit.” 

“You’ll not like me at all, if you don’t send those 
flowers back at once.” 

Julia walked to the phone and called up Pretty- 
man at once and said : “I’m sending the flowers back 
by Ponsonby. ’ ’ 

“But — well, — what is the matter, Julia — Miss 
Skinner?” 

“Fletcher has kicked up a row. He is here now 
and I can hardly pacify him; if you don’t accept 
them he will come over and disturb the peace and 
calmness of the parish house.” 

“I’m very sorry, Julia! You know, I wouldn’t 
make trouble between you and Fletcher for a million 
dollars!” 

“He’s a rude old thing. I’ll tell Dad on him!” 

“Now, now, well, my poor little girl!” 

“Hold on! Don’t you now, now me, I’m not your 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


little girl, you big one-eyed Englishman ! Take your 
bally roses and don’t let me see those things again.” 

Julia thrust the roses into Ponsonby’s hands, gave 
him several instructions and went back into the re- 
ception room. The doctor was nowhere to be seen. 
A few minutes later Miss Smithe came in and said 
the doctor had hurried away, as he had an engage- 
ment downtown. 

Lamont hurried to the parish house, but could not 
find Prettyman anywhere. The Archdeacon had 
gone down to the Antlers Hotel for a game of pocket 
pool with O’Donnell. Lamont saw him in there, 
walked up behind him and let a heavy hand fall 
upon his coat collar, saying, ‘ ‘ Come with me ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ What ? ’ ’ inquired the Archdeacon. 

“You come with me; do you get that?” 

“But, Fletcher, I am engaged here with O’Don- 
nell.” 

“You come with me, sir.” 

“Lamont is out of his mind,” mused Percy, “and 
I am going to see what he will do.” 

“Well, come along!” 

“Certainly nice evening, isn’t it?” 

“I don’t think it is.” 

“Maybe it isn’t,” the Archdeacon replied, motion- 
ing for 0 ’Donnell to come with him. The three men 
went out into the street. 

“Come, let us go down this way,” said Lamont, 
turning into a narrow street. “Come, and be quick 
about it!” 


[ 120 ] 


AN ENGAGEMENT RING 


Sometimes the minds of two great men run in the 
same channel; at any rate, Percy and Haggerty de- 
cided to break away and make a run for it. Just 
as they were about to leap away Lament grabbed 
both of them and pulled them to one side. 

“For the love of St. George and the dragons!” 
exclaimed Percy. 

“Keep still until I get my breath.” 

“By bally,” thought the Archdeacon, “he’s going 
mad 1 I wish he would leave me alone.” Not an offi- 
cer to be seen, O’Donnell was disappearing around 
the corner. “I believe I will talk real nice to him, 
that may arrest his anger. 

Prettyman was desperate and began to extricate 
himself from a very unpleasant situation. 

“You and I are good friends. Doctor,” he said. 
“Now — well — oh, — ^bally — whow! — why. I’ll go any- 
where you want me to go ! Yea — oh — my — yes, we’re 
friends 1 ’ ’ 

“I guess you are going with me!” 

“Yes, indeed, old friend,” replied Percy. 

“Bury it; I’m no friend of yours! Why did you 
give Julia those flowers? She belongs to me and you 
keep your hands off from her!” 

“Yes, I will,” whimpered Percy. “I really sent 
them to the Judge, don’t you know! Yes — yes, she 
belongs to you.” 

“The Judge is a queer looking water nymph,” 
replied the doctor. 

“For the love of Mike,” worried Prettyman, “how 

[I2I] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


am I to get away from a mad man? I’ve got to get 
away soon or he will hurt me ! ’ ’ 

Suddenly the Archdeacon of Smithfield gave a 
quick leap, leaving his clerical coat in Lamont’s 
hands. Whow! How he ran down that bloody 
street. The dignified rector did not pursue him, but 
went back uptown. 

Judge Skinner met Lament in the lobby of the 
Antlers Hotel, early the next morning. After trans- 
acting a considerable amount of business, Skinner 
took the young man home with him for lunch. After 
a rather formal repast, during which Julia had little 
to say, the three repaired to the rose arbor for a 
pleasant visit. The Judge sat down beside Lament ; 
Julia seated herself several feet away from the gen- 
tlemen. Looking toward her, the younger man said : 

“I owe you an apology, Julia, for leaving so 
abruptly last evening. ’ ’ 

“Thank you, I accept it,” she replied coolly. 

“Come over here and sit with us, dear,” requested 
the Judge with a merry twinkle in his eye. 

Julia arose, walked over slowly, and sat down be- 
side her father. The Judge missed his tobacco ; Julia 
wanted to have Ponsonby bring it, but the Judge pre- 
ferred going for it in person. 

The two sat alone, looking at each other for some 
moments. Presently Fletcher said: 

“Julia, dear, I think you are so precious.” 

“I am sure you didn’t show it yesterday,” she 
pouted. 


[ 122 ] 


AN ENGAGEMENT RING 

“You didn’t treat me very kind, either,” he re- 
plied. 

“Didn’t I return those old flowers?” 

“Yes, under dire compulsion.” 

“I like that!” 

“You should not have accepted them in the first 
place,” he said. 

“My goodness!” she laughed, “what difference 
does it make, anyhow?” 

“A big difference, when a man cares like I do.” 

“I’ll never do it again,” she said, with a coquet- 
tish smile. 

“That’s a good girl,” he responded quickly. 
“Here is a present for you, dear.” It was a tiny 
box, which she opened with wonder and curiosity. 
It contained a beautiful engagement ring. 

“You are such a dear boy,” she said, as he em- 
braced her with some embarrassment. “And I’ll not 
quarrel with you again — until I feel like it! Now, 
skidoo, my chevalier, as papa will like to see my beau- 
tiful ring — you know, Sylvia Betty will be here at 
four o’clock.” 

“Good bye, Julia,” he said, hurrying away. 

“Ta, ta! till we meet again, me Lord!” 

Then the lovers temporarily parted. 


[123] 


CHAPTER XVI 


PETTY POLITICS 

Never before in thirty-five years, had Prettyman 
come face to face with the wonderful problem of 
woman. It took him a long time to find out for him- 
self, a thing that Abraham knew a long time ago — that 
no one knows what a woman will do next. He could 
not understand why Julia had given him every chance 
to woo and win her, only to cast him off when Lament 
became interested; any clear minded man could see 
that Prettyman would run well in the election. 
Evidently, Julia Skinner was not a clear minded 
woman ! Hence, logically, he hadn T lost so much 
after all. 

On the fifteenth of the month, at half after seven 
in the evening several distinguished Church politi- 
cians met in the parish house ; the meeting was private, 
being composed of Lamont, Dolittle, Smooth, Judson, 
Pott, Skinner, Ponsonby and Dorsey. Bottomly 
managed to get in somehow, but he was quietly 
removed before the meeting opened. Dr. Lamont 
opened the meeting with a prayer and several appro- 
priate remarks. Dean Goodman was not present as he 
desired to remain neutral in this political conflict, 
then he could retain his position regardless of who 
became Bishop. The Dean had felt for sometime that 

[124] 


PETTY POLITICS 


it was highly expedient for him to go lightly. Rural 
Dean Pott now arose and said, 

“Mr. Chairman, for what purpose has this meeting 
been convened?” 

“To discuss the political situation, and to provide 
ways and means, whereby we may be able to cope 
successfully with the right wing. ’ ’ 

“Do you think that Prettyman can carry the day?” 
asked Dorsey thoughtfully. 

‘ ‘ That depends on how hard you men will work in 
your respective fields. ’ ’ 

Then Dr. Lament arose and continued, “Prettyman 
and his associates will hold a meeting in Commerce 
Hall, Room 26, at eight-thirty; Judson will go to 
Room 25 and hide therein, in order to learn their plans. 
When their meeting adjourns, he will return and re- 
port to this committee.” 

Judson arose, bowed and walked out to fulfill the 
orders from his chief. As he passed out, Lamont 
winked at Ponsonby, who slipped out in order to watch 
Judson. 

Lamont smiled and said that he had received a very 
entertaining letter recently; Bishop Grumble was 
dissatisfied with the diocese. His people were getting 
tired of his ritualism and grumbling, making it very 
unpleasant for him. He promised to swing over to the 
left wing, if they would elect him Bishop of Smith- 
field. If Lamont and his friends did not see fit to 
help him, he would fight it out alone. He was not 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


anxious for himself, but Mrs. Grumble craved the 
social life of Smithfield. Lamont finished and sat 
down. Nearly all of the men roared with laughter 
and finally prevailed upon the doctor to let him run 
for the office. That would make a neat three-cornered 
fight, Lamont, Prettyman and Grumble. 

About eight fifteen Ponsonby staggered into the 
room, holding his hand over one eye. He related his 
story brokenly, sometimes in sobs. 

He reached Commerce Hall safely and entered 
Room 25, when someone suddenly struck him a blow in 
the eye. Regaining consciousness, he heard voices in 
the other room, but could not make out, what they 
were talking about. He hurried away, as fast as 
possible before being discovered. He had not seen 
Judson during the entire journey, but felt morally 
sure that it was Judson who had hit him in the dark. 
Then all of the brethren leaned back in their chairs 
and laughed heartily. Dolittle jumped and yelled, 

“Snakes, blind cats and old maids! Things are 
becoming interesting — Grumble wants to boss the 
grumblers and Ponsonby nearly lost an eye 1 What 
next. ’ ' Then he sat down, and took a tiny box out of 
his pocket, together with a large blue envelope, plac- 
ing them on the table in front of him. 

“Gentleman, this large blue envelope contains in- 
formation exposing some of the activities of the Ritual- 
ists; if the chair is willing, I would suggest that our 
beloved leader of Warrentown open and read aloud 
its contents. ’ ’ 


[126] 


PETTY POLITICS 


Lament opened the envelope and began reading a 
letter written by the president of the Ritualistic 
association of the diocese of Rosemont: 

“We must spread catholic literature, give systemat- 
ic courses of lectures and sermons, maintain branches 
everywhere and witness to catholic truths by catholic 
habits, i. e., bowing, bending, and crossing. This will 
encourage Ritualistic propaganda. We must deny 
that our principles are condemned by the standards of 
the Church. A catholic construction must be placed 
on the Creeds and Sacraments ; together with any other 
laws that a General Convention may enact in the 
future. We realize fully that to the world we appear 
as a wolf in the sheep fold. We must expect to 
undergo many hardships, as many rectors will warn 
the sheep against us. If our principles did not arouse 
antagonism, they would be of small account. We must 
regard as our adversaries, those people who will not 
support our cause. We must introduce into all of the 
parishes bizarre pastoral crosses with heavy roman 
steel chains; large Episcopal rings, beautiful stoles, 
croziers of the tenth century; mitres covered with 
tinsel. Also, incense burners, ciboria, bells and an 
elaborate variety of altar fixtures. We must alter the 
Book of Common Prayer in order to make legitimate 
the doctrines and practices of mediaevalism. In brief, 
we must oppose the spread of Protestantism in the 
diocese. Prettyman is available and Grumble would 
accept our principles, if we would elect him. Bottomly 
would betray anyone for personal advantage. All of 

[127] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


the brethren feel that the Archdeacon is the logical 
candidate.’’ 

A murmur passed around the table. 

‘ ‘ Where did you get that box and letter, Dolittle ? ’ ’ 
asked Lamont. 

‘‘When I was out in the hall a moment ago, I met 
Judson, who was returning. He handed me these 
two articles and hurried away ; he secured them from 
Prettyman that evening.” 

“Percy placed those in my private safe on one 
occasion — I hardly expected to see them again as he 
removed them to a bank down town,” said Skinner. 

Dr. Lamont now opened the box and unfolded 
several sheets of paper. The letter was a communica- 
tion from the Ritualistic Bishop of Rosemont to the 
President of the right wing in the diocese of Smith- 
field. Then he read as follows : 

“After a careful investigation to our great sorrow, 
we have found that Father Reinkins formerly rector 
of Rosedale has been found guilty of adultery and 
prostitution; further, that he has come into the di- 
ocese of Rosemont and now holds a curacy. While 
we deplore the crime, yet we feel obligated for the 
sake of the priesthood, to shield him. Mr. Horace 
Bottomly will be of great service to our cause, for he 
will systematically inform your people, that said 
Reinkins was innocent. The fact that Bottomly was 
in the diocese for forty years will lend weight to the 
statement. The present rector of Rosedale went there 
as a Ritualist; but changed to an Evangelical; while 


PETTY POLITICS 


a man of sterling character yet it is our duty to cripple 
his work, so that his position will no longer be tenable ; 
we can arouse three families in his parish, I am sure, 
who can embarrass him in many ways. If he should 
unchurch them, we can easily bring financial pressure 
upon the Bishop to restore them. Bottomly, while a 
Churchman of no character or principle, can easily do 
great damage to our opponents — until he is caught; 
then we can enlist the services of some other willing 
tool to further our schemes. For many years I have 
been interested in the growth of Ritualism in Smith- 
field and I hope our party will be successful in the 
coming election. 

It doesn ’t matter whom you elect, so long as we get 
a man who will carry out our politics. Defeat Lament 
if possible ; insist that the Bishop increase Bottomly ’s 
salary as we may need him again. Let us stand for 
all of the glorious reactionary principles of the Church 
of the good old Dark Ages ! ’ ’ 

Dr. Lament had finished reading and no one spoke 
for several minutes. Then Lament said, 

“Gentlemen, since we possess these documents we 
can be morally sure that there will never be a Ritualis- 
tic Bishop of Smithfield. 

Presently Judson returned. He had noticed some- 
one loitering about the premises a few moments before, 
giving Dolittle the box and letter in the hall, slipping 
off his shoes, he tiptoed down the hall and turning the 
corner had bumped into Bottomly, Prettyman and 
several men who had come with them to the parish 

[ 129 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


house. They seized him before he could escape and 
searched him for the missing articles. They had fol- 
lowed the detective from the Commerce Building to the 
parish house, feeling sure that he had the missing 
articles in his possession. The Archdeacon and his 
associate were in a desperate plight for they realized 
that their cause was lost, unless they secured these 
papers ; as the secret head of the Ritualistic association 
of Smithfield he had received the communication from 
the Bishop of Rosemont. After guarding it safely for 
so long he was beside himself with anger, when he 
realized that it had been taken from him. He with- 
drew his men and left the building for consultation. 
It was necessary to act if he was to save the day. 
Lament and his followers were still listening to his 
experiences when there was a loud knock at the door. 

As quick as a cat, Judson sprang over to the door 
and turned the key, thus securely locking it. Then 
moving over a chair to a position just in front of the 
door, he climbed on it and opened the transom. Jump- 
ing down, he motioned to Lamont to get up, look 
through a small aperture above and ascertain who was 
outside. Looking down the doctor was heard to say: 

“Why good evening Archdeacon, how are you and 
your friends ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Fine Lamont, let us in, ’ ’ came the voice of Percy. 

‘ ‘ I can T. We have locked the door and can ’t unlock 
it.^^ 

‘ ‘ Come now, have you seen J udson ? ’ ’ 

“I^m not sure,’^ Lamont replied. 

[130] 


PETTY POLITICS 


“Let us in/’ pleaded Percy in a friendly manner. 

“I can’t.” 

‘ ‘ Open, I say ! ’ ’ 

“I won’t,” came the doctor’s quick reply. 

“By bally! I want to come in,” cried the exasper- 
ated man outside. 

“Well, then come in,” said Lamont smiling. 

“Judson broke into our meeting and stole some 
valuable information. We followed him to this place 
and we believe that he delivered those articles to you.” 

“Maybe he did, and maybe he didn’t,” laughed 
Fletcher. 

Prettyman realizing his inability to secure his 
property left at once to formulate other plans. 

“Boys,” said Lamont to the gentlemen sitting 
about, “we will hide these documents at once and then 
go home. 

The doctor placed them in his shoe; passing down 
the hall and turning to go down into the street they 
were suddenly held up by a group of men, searched 
and carefully examined. The missing papers were 
nowhere to be found. Lamont and his friends were 
permitted to leave in peace. When they reached the 
sidewalk, the shrill voice of Bottomly was heard in the 
parish house : 

“We forgot to make them take off their shoes!” 

There was a rush and pattering of feet toward the 
outer door. Lamont and his followers laid down im- 
mediately behind a nearby hedge ; Prettyman and his 
friends ran out into the night in hot pursuit. Bot- 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


tomly was heard to scream far down the street : 

“Prettyman, you haven’t got a bit of sense. You’ll 
never get them papers back now ! ’ ’ 

Lamont and his followers decided to leave the 
premises at once. 


[132] 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE SPECIAL CONVENTION 

During the morning of the twenty-first one hundred 
and thirty-eight ministers and ninety laymen arrived 
in Smithfield, repairing to the Cathedral. Bishop 
Grumble had arrived on the twentieth to preside over 
the meeting, as Bishop Crabbit was physically unfit. 
After a short religious service at ten o ’clock, the con- 
vention was formally organized and then adjourned 
until one o’clock. A delicious luncheon was served 
in the parish house; the Ritualists sitting at tables 
reserved for them, while the Evangelicals sat with 
the people generally. 

At one o’clock the Rt. Rev. Uriah Grumble, D.D., 
took his seat and opened the meeting. After the 
usual preliminaries of canonical procedure, nomina- 
tions were called for. 

The following gentlemen were placed in nomina- 
tion : The Rt. Rev. Uriah Grumble, Bishop of a neigh- 
boring diocese; Archdeacon Percy Prettyman of 
Smithfield ; the Rev. Fletcher Lamont, D.D., rector of 
Warrentown, and the Rev. Archibald Pott. 

Rural Dean Pott at once withdrew his name. Bal- 
loting commenced at once, after the convention 

[ 133 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


settled down to business, and resulted as follows: 

Clerical Lay 


Bishop Grumble 10 1 

Archdeacon Prettyman 92 60 

Doctor Lamont 36 29 

Roll call 138 90 

Necessary to elect 92 60 


As less than two-thirds of the churches were repre- 
sented, a two-thirds vote in both orders was neces- 
sary to elect. 

On motion of the Rev. Dr. Lamont, seconded by 
Dean Pott, the election was immediately made unani- 
mous. The entire proceedings being over by four 
0 ’clock, the convention arose and sang the Doxology, 
being dismissed with the blessing of the Bishop pre- 
siding. 

Dr. Lamont now arose and announced that there 
would be a banquet at the Antlers Hotel at seven 
in the evening, and invited all present to remain for 
the celebration in honor of Bishop-elect Prettyman. 
After several minutes of visiting, the gathering broke 
up and left the church. Grumble was so angry that 
he did not recognize Lamont, one of the last to leave. 

At seven o ’clock that evening a distinguished gath- 
ering of churchmen were seated at every available 
table in the largest hotel of Smithfield. Prettyman 
was seated at the head of the largest table, as guest 
of honor. After a delightful repast, many of the 
brethren offered suitable toasts which Prettyman re- 
ceived with gracious smiles of acknowledgment. 

[ 134 ] 


THE SPECIAL CONVENTION 


Turning to the doctor who sat near him, he requested 
him to make a few remarks. The latter arose and 
said he would be glad to address them, provided no 
one would interrupt him, until he finished. Pretty- 
man and the whole gathering gave him unanimous 
consent to proceed. 

“Archdeacon Prettyman and beloved brethren: It 
gives me great pleasure to address my friends on this 
occasion, which I believe will be memorable in the 
history of this diocese. Not very long ago, I was 
informed by Judge Skinner, who is present this eve- 
ning, that our esteemed Archdeacon had at one time 
deposited a small box and large blue envelope in his 
private safe. Later, he removed these two articles to 
the State Bank downtown for safe keeping. After 
my engagement to the Judge’s daughter, it was but 
natural that he should relate the removal of these 
items. Mr. Judson, one of my friends, happened to 
be passing Room 26 in Commerce Hall one evening, 
and hearing familiar voices, he became interested at 
once. Rushing in, he seized the small box and blue 
envelope and made his escape. Hurrying at once to 
the parish house, where I was conducting a com- 
mittee meeting, he gave them to me, believing he had 
broken up some kind of a conspiracy. ’ ’ 

Prettyman now leaped to his feet and ordered the 
doctor to stop and leave the building. That worthy 
gentleman spoke a word, Judson and Ponsonby 
stepped over to Percy’s seat and forced him down 
into his chair instantly. Then Lament continued : 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 

“I will now read you the contents of the letter, 
written by the President of the Ritualistic associ- 
ation of the diocese of Rosemont, which gives us the 
plans and inner workings of enemies of the Church/’ 
The doctor finished reading the letter, and proceeded 
immediately with the contents of the box. This was 
a communication from the Ritualistic Bishop of Rose- 
mont to Prettyman, secret leader of their party in the 
diocese of Smithfield. He began — 

want to congratulate you, my brethren, upon 
your choice of an assistant Bishop of Smithfield ; and 
I sincerely hope that our dear Bishop, now very sick, 
may never know how determined his opponents have 
become in their effort to destroy the work of a life- 
time.” 

There was a roar of indignation as the doctor sat 
down. Bishop Grumble called for order, but the hiss- 
ing and booing continued for ten minutes. When he 
finally secured the attention of the people, he said, 

“Why all this confusion, brethren?” 

“The doctor accused me of being a Ritualist.” 

“Are you a Ritualist?” snorted Grumble, wiping 
the beads of perspiration from his red face. 

“Yes,” cried the Archdeacon, “and I am proud of 
it. We must eliminate forever, from our Prayer Book, 
those detestable germs of a rank Protestantism. 
Our Church can never make much progress until she 
returns to the beliefs and practices of the glorious 
Church of a thousand years ago ! When I reach the 
Bishopric in this diocese, I shall oppose the growth of 

[136] 


THE SPECIAL CONVENTION 


those various sectarian religious societies, with my 
whole heart; and, we ought to undermine the Book 
of Common Prayer so that eventually we may build 
up a splendid Romanized Liturgy for use in the 
Church. And I want to lay especial emphasis upon 
the fact that I expect every Evangelical to submit to 
my authority in all things spiritual, and to take due 
care, in promptly providing plenty of money for my 
diocesan work and activities. God has surely called 
me to the Episcopate, and while some of you may not 
agree with me in minor details, I hope you will all 
have the wisdom to exercise some degree of Christian 
charity. ’ ’ 

The Assistant Bishop-elect sat down and Dolittle 
sprang to his feet and said : 

“Tell them how you entered the doctor’s apart- 
ment in the Antlers, Percy.” 

“Certainly. I walk in my sleep at times.” 

“And demand a package when asleep?” 

“Sometimes, of course, you know that I am not 
responsible. Why do you insult me, George, when 
we have been friends so long?” 

“You entered our rooms and took away our let- 
ters,” said Dolittle, “and Dr. Lament here will prove 
what I say.” 

“You are insulting, George Dolittle !” 

“I am not, Percy Prettyman!” 

“You should be more respectful to me, as I am 
the Bishop-elect!” cried Percy angrily. 

“You won’t be a Bishop-elect when I am through 

[137] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


with you and your Ritualistic friend at Rosemont ! ” 
replied George warmly. 

“I say, put Lament and Dolittle out of the meet- 
ing!’’ chirped Bottomly somewhere in the rear of the 
room near the door. 

“I’ve heard that voice before — let me see it 
again,” replied Bishop Grumble, lifting himself up 
out of the large chair. He looked over the room, but 
could not see a small individual with a thin voice; 
Bottomly had sneaked away and could not be found. 

“Look here, Dolittle, you cannot be my Arch- 
deacon, promise or no promise 1 ’ ’ cried Prettyman. 

“Well, Percy, I’ll not shed tears over it — the job 
does not amount to much, anyway!” 

“It is a great office !” cried Percy, now thoroughly 
angered by the cool, manly replies of George 
Dolittle. 

“And I repeat,” answered George, “that it is a 
very insignificant office in our American Church ! ’ ’ 

Prettyman felt that he had been insulted and hu- • 
miliated. He called upon Bishop Grumble to eject 
his undesirable guests from the room, but that wise 
brother refused. Then he sent one of his friends to 
the telephone to call up the chief of police. 

Officer 0 ’Malley was on duty and detailed 0 ’Don- 
nell to the Antlers at once. His job depended on 
the good will of Skinner and he made up his mind 
that he would have to be very diplomatic when he 
mingled with the excited brethren. Arriving at a 
point just in front of the dining-room he saw a 

[138] 


THE SPECIAL CONVENTION 


large number of dignified Churchmen engaged in 
quiet conversation. Near the door a small group of 
Ritualists were talking rapidly and evidently trying 
to frighten Lament and Dolittle. Haggerty reported 
to Prettyman at once and stood at attention. Then 
he said : 

“Officer, you will kindly remove Mr. Dolittle from 
the room, as he is an objectionable character.” 

“Yes, sir. Come with me, my man!” George fol- 
lowed him quietly and remained outside. 

Then Percy cried out to the returning patrolman : 

‘ ‘ Take Mr. Lament out 1 ’ ’ 

“Yes, sir”; and the doctor was led out to the 
street. 

Just then Judge Skinner met Haggerty in the 
lobby and asked him several questions. What was 
he doing here? How was he getting along on the 
force? The Irishman told him how Percy had em- 
ployed him in the ejection of the two distinguished 
gentlemen from Warrentown. 

“Listen, Haggerty, you bring those two men back 
in five minutes or I ’ll request your suspension ! ’ ’ 

The policeman knew that the Judge meant every 
word ; so, rushing out he asked Lament and Dolittle 
to hurry in with him, but they fiatly refused. 0 ’Don- 
nell walked in between the two men, slipped his right 
arm around the doctor and his left about Dolittle. 
Inside of five minutes he stood bowing before the 
Judge with two laughing friends, one on either side. 

“Haggerty, you are a prince!” 

[139] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


‘‘Well, Judge, orders is orders with me.” 

Prettyman and his closest friends now came over 
to the little group and began to quarrel, saying : 

“Judge Skinner, I consider you very rude to coun- 
termand Percy’s orders !” hissed a little curate, walk- 
ing along near Prettyman. 

“Sorry, my sacerdotal friend,” replied the Judge, 
smiling; “you know, one forgets things at my age.” 

“See here,” said Percy to the two clergymen, “I 
would advise you both to leave the diocese, as it is 
quite clear that you are objectionable to most of the 
brethren ! ’ ’ 

“Look here, Englishman,” replied Dolittle, whose 
gray eyes sparkled with sincerity, “you tell the truth 
when you say that we are not welcome to you and 
a few of your kind in this diocese. However, we 
feel sure you are not welcome here, and we do not 
believe that you will ever preside over an American 
diocese.” 

“Look here, by bally! I have already been 
elected!” 

“Yes, you have, but we know something about that 
little matter that will shock you. ’ ’ 

“Do you mean to say that the election was 
illegal ? ’ ’ 

“I am saving what I have to say for the future,” 
laughed Dolittle. 

“We will run you Protestants out of the Church in 
the near future ! ’ ’ croaked Horace, hiding behind sev- 
eral Ritualists for protection. 

[140] 


THE SPECIAL CONVENTION 


‘‘Yes, and ITl reinstate you, Bottomly, just as soon 
as I am consecrated,’’ murmured Percy. 

Bishop Grumble walked up just at this moment 
and said: 

“Did you threaten me, Prettyman?” 

“No, sir!” 

“What remark did you make a moment ago?” 

“Why — er — ah, now, don’t you know, I forgot it.” 

“What did he say, Fletcher?” 

“Well,” smiled Lament, “he said that he would 
remove the excommunication from brother Bottomly 
as soon as he was consecrated.” 

“Percy, did you say that?” asked Grumble,. 

“Yes, I did, sir!” 

“Do you mean it?” 

“Well, yes. You know, Horace has been a faithful 
layman of the diocese for over forty years, and feels 
that the Church really belongs to him.” 

“Begone, sir! Begone!” cried the prelate. “A 
man like you could never add dignity to the Episco- 
pate!” 

Percy left immediately ! 

Then the meeting broke up and the brethren de- 
parted from the banquet held in honor of the Bishop- 
elect of Smithfield. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


DEATH OP A GREAT CHURCHMAN 

On the day following the special Convention, at 
half after two o’clock in the afternoon, a shadow fell 
over the diocese of Smithfield; the Venerable and be- 
loved, the Rt. Rev. James Crabbit D. D. had fallen 
asleep in the Lord. 

Dean Goodman notified by card, each parish and 
mission of the solemn fact. It was decided to hold the 
burial service in the Cathedral at ten o’clock on the 
morning of the twenty-fifth. The Rev. Fletcher 
Lamont D. D. a life-long friend of the Bishop, was 
selected to preach the sermon ; Dolittle, Dorsey, 
Smooth, Pott and Ponsonby were appointed to assist 
the Dean in making arrangements for the funeral. 

Lamont went up to Smithfield the next day and 
called at the Bishop’s house. Mrs. Crabbit felt quite 
composed and ready to converse with the doctor; she 
felt sure that the election of the Archdeacon was 
responsible for the death of her husband ; Dr. Crabbit 
had presided over the destinies of Smithfield for 
twenty-five years, giving the best part of his life to 
the Church; with zeal and splendid power he began 
with a weak, impoverished missionary district of a 
few thousand souls; at his death it numbered nearly 
twenty-one thousand members. It had been the 
[142] 


DEATH OP A GREAT CHURCHMAN 

Bishop’s fondest hope that Lament would be elected 
his assistant, for he was thoroughly equipped for that 
ofSce; the political activities of Prettyman resulted 
in the defeat of the Warrentown rector by the nar- 
rowest margin. That was too much for Bishop Crabhit 
for he knew full well that with a Ritualistic Bishop the 
work in all the Churches would go backward instead of 
forward; that lace and mummery would receive more 
attention than the Gospel of Christ. It was enough 
to kill any Bishop under the same circumstances, — it 
killed the diocesan of Smithfield ! 

Assuring her of his deep sympathy, Lament left the 
Crabhit home and hurried over to Judge Skinner’s. 
To his surprise and chagrin he found that Percy had 
called sometime earlier in the afternoon; Julia and 
Percy had gone out to Granville Park for a last stroll, 
as the weather would begin to grow colder any day. 
Catching a car he reached the end of the line in half an 
hour, and walked out to the beautiful woods beyond; 
he met them a short distance from the band stand. 
Raising his hat he spoke to them pleasantly and said : 

‘‘lam glad to see you. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ What do you mean by following us Mr. Lamont ? ’ ’ 

“Because I have a right to do so!” he replied. 

“No gentleman would follow anyone in this man- 
ner!” 

“And no gentleman would make a hasty date with 
a gentleman ’s bethrothed, ’ ’ replied Lamont. 

“Shame — for shame, Fletcher!” she said pouting. 

‘ ‘ I am not ashamed ! ’ ’ 


[143] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“You are jealous!” she snapped. 

“And you are fickle,” he answered. 

“I’m not!” 

“You are!” 

“Look here, by bally, be careful how you talk to 
my friend. Remember I am to be your future 
Bishop.” 

“Oh — why yes, by the way me Lord, may I have 
your permission to speak to my future wife?” 

“Do you mean to be sarcastic, Mr. Lament?” 

“No, not in the least, my near Lordship, I should 
have said, ’ ’ 

“You are irreverent!” 

“Perhaps so,” replied Lament. 

“You must apologize to him Fletcher,” she in- 
sisted. 

“Do you really mean that Julia,” he asked. 

“Yes, Ido!” 

“Very well, I apologize, my near Lordship, the 
Ven. Percy Mortimer Augustus Prettyman.” 

“I accept your apology,” he replied stiffly. 

“You two men must shake hands and make up,” 
she interposed. 

‘ ‘ Sure, I will be glad to, ’ ’ spoke up the doctor. 

He held out his hand, but Percy would not accept 
it. 

“Aren’t you going to shake hands with Fletcher?” 

“I’d rather not,” said Percy. 

“Why not?” 

“It would be beneath my dignity,” he replied. 
[144] 


DEATH OP A GREAT CHURCHMAN 


“Why, what has he done to you?” 

“He tried to discredit me at the banquet, given in 
honor of my election. ^ ’ 

“What did he say about you?” she inquired looking 
straight into Lamont’s eyes. 

“He accused me of being a bally Ritualist before 
the whole gathering ! ’ ’ 

“Are you?” 

“Yes of course.” 

‘ ‘ Then why should you be angry, ’ ’ she asked. 

“Because he read some private letters, which he 
stole from me indirectly.” 

“Can you prove that I stole them indirectly?” 
asked Lamont. 

“No,” replied Percy, “but I can prove that you 
stole my best girl.” 

“Well,” replied Lamont laughing heartily, “you 
can take the Bishopric, I will take the girl. Come 
Julia, let us be going dear!” 

“I brought Miss Julia out here and I have a right 
to take her back, ’ ’ declared the Archdeacon. 

“Come now,” said Lamont, “let Miss Julia decide 
who shall take her home 1 ’ ’ 

“I think,” she said smiling sweetly at both of 
them, ‘ ‘ that I will have two escorts back to the city. ’ ^ 

“ITl walk on your right,” declared Lamont walk- 
ing forward, “and Percy can walk on the left.” 

“No never” replied the latter 

“I shall walk on the right because I brought her 
out here. ’ ’ 


[ 145 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“You boys stop quarreling and come on home!’^ 
she commanded. 

That evening at the Skinner home, the Judge con- 
gratulated Percy on his election, took him into his 
private study, where the two men talked over plans 
for the future. Lament was left with Julia in the 
living room, of course. 

“Well,” he said. 

“What are you thinking about?” she questioned. 

“About our Bishop now at rest! He was a good 
man, Julia!” 

“Yes,” she replied; “Why did we have such opposi- 
tion from the Ritualists ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Because he was loyal to the Prayer Book. ’ ’ 

“Are they disloyal?” she asked. 

‘ ‘ Absolutely, ’ ’ he replied gravely. 

“In what way?” 

‘ ‘ They deny that the Church is Protestant ! ’ ’ 

“Is it, ” she asked, ‘ ‘ in your opinion ! ’ ’ 

“Yes, it protests against every known error of 
man.” 

“Then, it isn’t a catholic Church?” 

“Yes, catholic for every truth of God proven in Holy 
Writ.” 

“Do they advocate two Sacraments or seven?” she 
asked. 

“Seven,” he replied, “which is an error for there 
are only two. ’ ’ 

“Which do you mean?” she asked seriously. 

[146] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


^‘Baptism and the Holy Communion, as generally 
necessary to salvation/^ 

“They are strong on adoration,” she declared. 

“Yes, but it is forbidden in the Prayer Book,” he 
said. 

‘ ‘ Do they believe in images, relics, purgatory, beads, 
etc?” 

“Yes,” he replied, “but the Prayer Book says these 
are fond things, vainly invented and grounded upon 
no warranty of Scripture, but rather repugnant to the 
Word of God! 

“Percy believes in reserving the Sacrament of the 
Lord ’s Supper, ’ ’ she said quietly. 

“I know that.” he answered respectfully, but the 
Prayer Book says that, ‘the Lord^s Supper was not by 
Christ’s ordinance reserved, carried about, lifted up 
or worshipped’!” 

“I notice that the Archdeacon always calls the 
Lord’s Supper or Holy Communion the ‘mass’.” 

“The Prayer Book says that ‘the sacrifices of 
Masses, in which it was commonly said, that the priest 
did offer Christ for the quick and dead, to have remis- 
sion of pain or guilt, were blasphemous fables and 
dangerous deceits ’, ” he answered. 

“Do you know what I think about our Prayer 
Book, Fletcher?” 

“Not particularly” 

“ It is the bulwark of the English Reformation. ’ ’ 

“You are correct my dear,” he replied. 

[ 147 ] 


DEATH OP A GREAT CHURCHMAN 


^‘We can easily see why our late Bishop sought to 
keep and preserve such a mighty heritage/^ she 
answered with reverence. 

‘ ‘ It was a question of honor with him you know. ’ ’ 

“It seems that you and I are solving some very 
heavy religious problems, ’ ’ she said smiling. 

“Well, a little study of the Catechism is good at 
times. 

Here Lament arose and held out his hand. She 
would see him at the Cathedral on the twenty-fifth. 
Then he left for Warrentown. 

At ten 0 ’clock in the morning on the day appointed 
for the funeral, the great Church was filled to over- 
flowing; men and women of all creeds and classes, 
with few exceptions, respected the memory of the 
dead Pastor and Shepherd of Smithfield; they kept 
coming until it was impossible to get near the doors. 

The choir lead in singing the thirty-ninth and 
ninetieth psalms, accompanied by the great organ. 
Dean Goodman read the plain Burial Service, glorious 
in the majesty of its simplicity ; after a reading of the 
Scripture Lesson, Miss Julia Skinner sang a solo, 
entitled, “The Strife Is O’er” The Rev. Fletcher 
Lament D. D. entered the high pulpit and delivered 
the following eulogy: 

‘ ‘ Brethren, another Apostle of the Lord has entered 
into rest. This friend and nobleman, tired and worn, 
fell asleep at eventide while the shadows of life sung 
their tender requiem. With advancing age he carried 
his burden, till, with unfaltering trust in the precious 

[148] 


DEATH OP A GREAT CHURCHMAN 


promises of the Infinite, he laid aside the cares of life 
and travelled ‘ into that mysterious country from whose 
bourne no traveller returns’. His ideals and venerable 
counsel will assist us in our future trials, and stand 
as a perpetual monument of splendid fortitude and a 
well-spent life. He loved us with a love that would 
not let us go, and never failed to assuage our grief or 
praise our hope with kindly words and sympathizing 
tears. A comprehensive appreciation of the views of 
other men enabled him to rule with tolerance and yet 
maintain with becoming dignity his rightful place 
among his fellow men. His understanding of the 
pressing problems of Church and State impelled him 
to great efforts in building both on surer foundations 
— truth, justice, and brotherly love. He travelled on 
firm, gracious and with sure tread climbed the hills 
leaving fear and pagan superstition falling in crum- 
bling ruins among the crags. The day was done. Im- 
mortality beckoned with assurance, for on his venerable 
brow rested, in sparkling gems, the immortal crown of 
victory. He loved the Liturgy and all of those helps 
to devotion, used since time immemorial by millions of 
of men of every tongue. No word of hope comes from 
those silent lips yet in our hour of tribulation, love 
sends a message flashing on the wires of a throbbing 
empire : 

‘ ‘ I am the resuri'ection and the life, saith the Lord : 
he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall 
he live : and whosoever liveth and believeth, in me shall 
never die. I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that 
[149] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth : and 
though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in 
my flesh shall I see God : whom I shall see for myself, 
and mine eyes shall behold, and not another. ’ ’ 

^‘My brethren, how poor seem our words in con- 
veying the love we feel, but we shall console ourselves 
with the thought that there never was a gentler dis- 
ciple of the Christian Church ! ’ ’ 

“The strife is o’er, the battle done, the victory of 
life is won ; the song of triumph has begun. Alleluia ! ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE DEDICATION AT SHERIDAN 

After the funeral, Lament returned to Warrentown 
in order to attend to some parochial matters. The 
fall work was unusually heavy and Dolittle was very 
busy. 

He received a letter that morning from Julia, say- 
ing that she intended to attend the dedication at 
Sheridan on the following day, and hoped to see him 
there. Lament was pleased, for he dearly loved the 
girl. 

“I guess I am in my second childhood, for I must 
call her up and speak to her,’^ he mused to himself, 
as he walked over to the telephone. 

^‘Give me Judge Skinner’s residence at Smith- 
field,” he requested of the long distance operator. 

“I’ll call you,” replied the girl. 

The weather was growing colder, as the latter part 
of November had arrived. The fire in the grate 
seemed very cheerful to the doctor as he paced the 
floor waiting for the call. Suddenly the ’phone rang 
and he hurried to answer. 

“Good morning, Fletcher,” she said, sweetly. 

‘ ‘ Why, good morning, my dear, ’ ’ he answered. ‘ ‘ I 
received your pleasant letter today.” 

“Were you glad to get it?” 


AUCHDEACON PEETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“Yes, indeed,^’ lie replied, “for you write such a 
pretty hand and say many comforting things. ’ ’ 

“Do you really mean it, Fletcher?’’ 

“Yes, sometimes,” he replied. 

“Don’t you always?” she teased. 

“Almost,” he answered. 

“I require a complete allegiance.” 

“So do I,” he replied quickly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean it is poor taste for you to run out to the 
park with Percy!” 

“I don’t think it is,” she snapped. 

“I do!” 

“Well, if you feel that way about it, just ring off !” 

“Did you mean to tell me to ring off, dearie?” he 
asked. 

“Yes, if you can’t be nice to me.” 

“Are you really planning to attend the dedica- 
tion?” he inquired, coughing discreetly. 

“Why, yes,” she answered. “Have you a bad 
cold, dear?” 

“Yes, I have.” 

“What are you doing for it?” 

“Why, nothing — you know, I’d need you to doc- 
tor me.” 

“Don’t get sentimental now, Fletcher! You — see 
a physician at once. ’ ’ 

“Julia?” 

“I’m listening. You haven’t said yet that you 
were coming.” 


[152] 


THE DEDICATION AT SHERIDAN 


‘‘Well, 111 be there without fail,” he laughed, 
hanging up the receiver. 

Just then Dolittle came in and made a report rela- 
tive to the parochial affairs. The two men sat down 
and entered into an earnest conversation: both 
trusted each other and, therefore, spoke without 
reserve. 

“Well, George, what do you think about the politi- 
cal situation ? ’ ^ 

“First rate. Your chances are good.” 

“By the way, George, what did you mean by your 
remarks to Prettyman at the banquet the other 
evening ? ’ ’ 

“Don’t you really know, doctor?” 

“No; please tell me.” 

“During the special Convention, just before the 
balloting began. Dr. Mabie was called to the bedside 
of the late Bishop. He had no more than left the 
building when Bottomly was seen to slip into his 
seat. Ponsonby, Dean Pott and Judge Skinner were 
sitting just behind him, and saw him cast his ballot 
with the other delegates. As less than two-thirds 
of the Churches were represented by delegates, a 
two-thirds vote was necssary in both orders to elect 
a Bishop. One hundred and thirty-eight clergy and 
ninety laymen had responded to roll call. Pretty- 
man received ninety-two clerical and sixty lay votes, 
which elected him to the Episcopate. When Mabie 
left after roll call, notwithstanding the vote cast by 
Bottomly, when the voting began, his seat was legally 

[ 153 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 

vacant. Therefore, Archdeacon Prettyman is not 
Bishop-elect of Smithfield, lacking one lay vote. This 
must not be mentioned until the psychological mo- 
ment ; then we will kick up some dust ! ’ ’ 

The doctor was speechless with amazement, and 
did not say anything for ten minutes. 

“I wonder what will come next,” the doctor re- 
plied, with a sad look in his eyes. ‘‘That will mean 
another special Convention. I am glad Bishop Crab- 
bit never knew about it. It is a pity that Bottomly’s 
vote should count so much.” 

“Well,” replied Dolittle, “it can’t be helped.” 

“Do you want to go over to Sheridan with me to- 
morrow?” 

“Certainly. ITl meet you at the station at seven 
thirty-five in the morning.” 

Arriving at Sheridan some time before the begin- 
ning of the dedication service. Lament was happy 
to find that a large number of delegates from neigh- 
boring parishes were arriving. 

At the appointed hour the great organ rolled out 
a voluntary, finally merging into stately proces- 
sional. The choir of fifty clergymen marched up 
the center aisle, singing “The Church’s One Founda- 
tion.” The sermon was preached by the Rt. Rev. 
Poxville O’Grady, S.T.D., Bishop of Rosemont, who 
spoke as follows : 

“In the fullness of time, this Church is completed 
and we gather here to consecrate it in memory of the 
late Bishop of this diocese, the Rt. Rev. James Crab- 
[154] 


THE DEDICATION AT SHERIDAN 


bit, D.D. It is little that we can do today, for it has 
already been consecrated by the lives of noble men 
and women associated in its erection, some of whom 
I will mention: Judge Wrench, who presented the 
chimes; the Rev. Anthony Baggety, remembered as 
the minister who gathered here a flock, building the 
flrst Church upon this sacred spot; and above all, 
the Rt. Rev. James Crabbit, D.D., to whose memory 
this House of Prayer stands as a fitting memorial.” 

Then the Bishop paid a loving tribute to the mem- 
ory of the distinguished dead. He fittingly empha- 
sized the fact that nearly two-thirds of the money 
spent in the erection of the Church came from the 
Crabbit purse. This was given out of the love and 
veneration of a noble Christian leader for the Church 
of the living God. 

After an address lasting one-half hour the Bishop 
retired and vested for the dedication. Arrayed in 
cope and mitre and all of the habiliments of the 
Church of the Dark Ages, Bishop Foxville O’Grady 
intoned an ancient service for the dedication of a 
Protestant temple! 

“0 temporal 0 mores!” sighed Lament feebly, 
looking at George, who stood watching the diocesan 
of Rosemont. 

Prettyman as Bishop-elect was responsible for se- 
curing a Bishop from a neighboring diocese to dedi- 
cate the Sheridan Church. Being the real leader, at 
least temporarily, he felt it his duty to invite the 
Rosemont prelate into his future jurisdiction. It was 

[■ 55 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


a miserable mistake and certainly bad manners. The 
late Bishop of Smithfield had never trusted the in- 
cumbent of the See of Rosemont. 

“Well, Dorsey,’' said the doctor, sometime after 
the service while the people were gathering for 
lunch, “it seems that we are getting a good dose of 
imported ritual today ! ’ ’ 

“I know it, but what could I do? I could hardly 
stop the service, and yet I felt insulted! I shall 
never allow anyone to wear such mummery in my 
parish again.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” replied the Warrentown 
rector. 

“Thank you, the Prayer Book and its ritual is 
good enough for me.” 

Lament hunted up Julia and found her in the com- 
pany of the Bishop-elect. After an exchange of sev- 
eral remarks, he left them, as she did not seem in- 
clined to talk to him further. Meeting Miss Mary 
Ann Clever, the organist of the Cathedral, in the 
parish house, he asked her to accompany him to 
lunch. 

“With pleasure, doctor,” she answered, with a 
twinkle in her eyes. 

‘ ‘ Thank you, Mary Ann. ’ ’ 

“Where is Julia?” she asked, looking at him slyly. 

“Consoling the Bishop-elect.” 

“I notice he brought her up from Smithfield,” she 
informed him, watching him narrowly. 

“I hope they had a good time.” 


THE DEDICATION AT SHERIDAN 


^‘I suppose you two have had your first quarrel?” 

“I trust it is not as serious as that,” he laughed. 

“Will she get mad if I go to lunch with you?” 

“No; Julia is a broad-minded woman.” 

“Are you sure?” she asked. 

“One can never he very certain where women are 
concerned. Of course,” he said, in a respectful man- 
ner, “present company is always excepted.” 

They walked in leisurely and found their places — 
when who should come and sit down across from 
them but Prettyman and Julia! The only one who 
really seemed to enjoy the situation was Mary Ann, 
for she realized that it was a lover’s quarrel, pure 
and simple. She decided not to help them out of 
their difficulties, either. 

After dinner, there was a general break-up of the 
meeting, as many visitors had to leave on the one 
o’clock car for Smithfield. Seeing Julia putting on 
her wraps preparatory to her departure, Fletcher 
walked over and said: 

“Good-bye, Miss Skinner. I hope you have had 
a pleasant day.” 

“Rather.” 

“Are you leaving on the next car for home?” 

“So Percy said a few moments ago,” she replied. 

“Give the Judge my kind regards,” he continued 
good-naturedly. “I believe I’ll catch that car, as 
Miss Clever might be lonesome without me!” 

“You haven’t any right to take her home, Fletcher 
Lament !” 


[157] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 

“Well, maybe not,” he replied, “but she will not 
go home without me.” 

“Take the poor thing home, then!” she flung back 
at him, walking away. 

Prettyman walked over and spoke to Lamont : 

“Look here, my man. Miss Skinner seems to prefer 
my company to yours and I would, therefore, advise 
you to let her alone.” 

“Why, certainly. I shall not address her again 
without her permission.” 

“And mine,” added the elect. 

“Sure thing, by bally!” replied Lamont, coughing 
to hide his mirth. 

“See here, Lamont, are you making fun of me?” 

“No, indeed; I am making fun of myself.” 

“Why?” 

“For allowing Julia to associate with such a jack- 
ass!” 

Just then the girls ran in and announced that the 
car was approaching. Bidding Dorsey and his wife 
a hasty good-bye, they all ran to the station, just in 
time to catch the car for Smithfield. Percy was livid 
with anger as he sat down beside her. 

“What is the matter, me Lord? You look dis- 
turbed.” 

“Dr. Lamont insulted me, just before we took the 
car!” 

“What did he say?” 

“Really — I couldn’t repeat it!” 

“Oh, yes, it will be all right.” 


[158] 


THE DEDICATION AT SHERIDAN 


“He called me a jackass 

‘ ‘ Why did he call you that ? ’ ^ 

“Because I would not give him my permission to 
speak to you!’’ 

“Then I will say that you are one!” she cried 
angrily, leaving her seat. 

“Wait, Miss Julia; I want to explain!” 

“Explain to Mary Ann,” she flung back, walking 
over and joining Lamont. 

“Mary Ann, if you will pardon me, Prettyman 
would like to speak to you.” 

“Very well,’ she replied, walking over to the Arch- 
deacon. “Did you wish to speak to me, Mr. Arch- 
deacon?” 

“No, indeed,” he replied. 

“Miss Skinner said you wanted to see me.” 

“Well, I believe I do. Be seated.” 

Prettyman sat thinking seriously as the car en- 
tered Smithfield. Then he muttered to himself: 
“That woman has made a fool out of me again!” 


[’ 59 ] 


CHAPTER XX 


PERSECUTION AT ROSEDALE 

Old St. Andrew Church was situated in the prosy 
town of Rosedale. Spring had awakened from its 
long reverie and burst into laughing bud and sooth- 
ing leaf. The murmur of the Silvertide and the 
mournful splash of the water-wheel at the Old Mill 
could he heard from the rectory on quiet days. For 
many years the parish struggled against the sins of 
bigotry and churchianity, but gradually lost her 
place as one of the moral forces of the community. 
Bishop Crabbit studied the situation as the years 
passed on, and sent rector after rector — men of 
strong character and winning personality. Pew of 
them could stay long. Finally, Reinkins came and 
made a hit with the ladies, especially a certain shal- 
low girl in her teens. August Bottomly, a brother 
of the crafty Horace, had enjoyed the confidence of 
the parish for thirty-three years. Outwardly, he was 
a loyal, obedient Churchman; inwardly, he was a 
liar, traitor and plain ass. He was a crafty man. 
All those years he appeared to meekly assist his rec- 
tor and got away with it. Talleyrand had nothing 
on Bottomly, for the latter was a past master of in- 
trigue and diplomacy. Many a man gave up attend- 
ing church without clearly understanding why. 

[i6o] 


PERSECUTION AT ROSEDALE 


Many a rector was suddenly relieved of his duties 
and wondered how it came about. Bottomly sympa- 
thized with all of them and shed many a tear in their 
presence. When they were gone, dragging their 
families after them, this man of Christ would sigh 
with infinite satisfaction and indulge in a long, 
ghastly cackle. 

“Bishop or no bishop! Christ or no Christ! Ill 
show these Prayer-book Churchmen who is boss, see 
if I don’t!” 

Bottomly prospered and grew fat. Being a Ritual- 
ist and out of sympathy with the Bishop or the great 
mass of church people, he hid away in his hole of 
sectarian hate, and barked at every passerby. He 
visited the girl whom Reinkins ruined and defended 
the culprit in the presence of the mother. Mingling 
with the brethren, he firmly defended that apostate 
of the Lord. The Bishop was under financial obli- 
gations to Bottomly. An effort was made by the 
Ritualists to transfer Reinkins to a fat living in a 
distant state where he could live down his crime. 
The dying Apostle had refused. Bottomly visited 
him and gave him some good financial advice. A 
few minutes later with trembling hand this Shepherd 
of the King signed the transfer in order to protect 
his children in their property rights. Six apostles 
of snobbery had previously sworn to the innocence 
of Reinkins. Bottomly returned to the town on the 
Silvertide and by gad ! how he cackled. 

Several weeks later the Rev. Samuel Hardwick, 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


D.D., quietly accepted the cure and installed the 
family in the old rectory. Next day Bottomly en- 
tered the house unannounced and sat down leisurely. 
Mrs. Hardwick was plainly dressed, as there were 
many duties to perform in getting the house in order. 
The Rev. Samuel came in and asked him what he 
wanted in a curt, business-like manner. 

“Wanted!'’ screamed Bottomly. 

“Yes, sir, what do you want?” 

“I want to tell you that I am boss of this joint!” 
yelled Bottomly, “and I don’t want those children 
digging up my yard ! ” 

“Those children will play outside whenever they 
please. What did you do when you were a boy, Mr. 
Bottomly?” 

The rector sat down and looked at his fat visitor 
with pity and impatience. 

“I’ll not allow it. I’ve been warden thirty-three 
years and I’m going to assert myself, see if I don’t!” 

“I don’t care if you have been here a thousand 
years. My children are going to play in that yard 
whenever they feel like it.” Hardwick’s jaw snapped 
like a steel trap. 

“ I ’ll run you out with your squawking kids, see if 
I don’t. A parson shouldn’t marry, anyway. Only 
makes more mouths to feed.” 

“Leave the rectory and don’t come back until you 
learn the manners of a gentleman.” 

“What! Me leave my house ! ” 

“Run along — vanish !” the rector’s eyes narrowed. 


PERSECUTION AT ROSEDALE 


“Look here — ” Bottomly raised his cane. 

“Beat it!’^ advised Hardwick. 

Bottomly accepted this good counsel and puffed 
down Church Street. Hardwick laughed until his 
wife scolded and put him to work washing windows. 

Things moved in Rosedale. Bottomly had his way 
and the children, J ames and ‘ ‘ Buddy, ’ ^ were kept off 
the grass. At eventide the learned man would take 
the mother and her children for peace and rest along 
the cooling banks of the Silvertide. Here they would 
sit for hours watching the dancing waves glorified 
by shafts of yellow and gold playing from the dying 
sun. At dusk a happy family returned to a dear old 
house among the trees, resting upon forbidden 
ground. 

Things moved, and so did Hardwick. Taking up 
the problems of a distracted parish, he soon had 
things moving along nicely. After a time, Mrs. 
Ernestine Chase, a young, dashing widow, installed 
a set of chimes in the belfry in memory of her de- 
parted Reggie, who died of overwork. 

Things made progress in the village near the Sil- 
vertide, and Samuel felt elated over the revival of 
interest. Many parishioners had been chased out of 
their church by the Ritualistic bunk and petty snob- 
bery of Bottomly and his henchmen. All of them 
returned and enlisted in the service of the Lord of 
Lords. The Sunday school was reorganized and sys- 
tematized, so that a pupil could learn something 
about God. Men, women and children came gladly 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


to hear the story of Jesus and his love. They refused 
to come and hear the message of incense, tenth-cen- 
tury graft, essays on Church History and mediaeval- 
ism. The people wanted evangelical religion and 
apostolic practice and Hardwick delivered the goods. 
In the eyes of Bottomly, Hardwick made two grievous 
mistakes. He invited every one to accept the plat- 
form of brotherly love and to worship at St. An- 
drew’s. Again, he regarded ministers of other faiths 
as brethren, loved and respected them as such. These 
two offenses were never forgiven, and Bottomly 
watched things with keen animosity. 

One Sunday afternoon, after a largely attended 
morning service, August visited the rector and told 
him in unmistakable terms: 

“See here, Hardwick, about three-fourths of those 
people at the service this morning are objectionable 
to me!” 

“Glad to hear it,” replied the pastor. 

“I’m not, and what I say goes here,” stormed the 
man. 

“What have they done to irritate you. Mr. 
Bottomly?” 

‘ ‘ They will not have eucharistic vestments, incense, 
private confessions, fasting, nor anything else be- 
longing to the past!” 

“You don’t say!” remarked Samuel, coughing. 
“Why don’t you give it to them in easy doses, 
August ? Then they might swallow some of it. ’ ’ 

“That is your business, sir!” 

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PERSECUTION AT ROSEDALE 


^‘Indeed. Well, ITl think it over, Mr. Bottomly, 
but I ’m afraid you will not have my support in your 
damnable plans.” 

“Listen to me, you blind, underfed parson!” 

The Rev. Samuel continued: “We are Americans 
and we are Churchmen in this country. Some of 
your ideas are un-American, bigoted, divisive, con- 
trary to common sense. It does not concern me what 
the Church did in the matter of ceremonial in ancient 
Timbuctoo, but I am mightily concerned about the 
religion of our Lord Jesus Christ as administered in 
love to people everywhere since the apostolic age; 
the lace, ribbons, fumblery of certain men all through 
history, are after all only secondary matters. The 
main thing, Bottomly, is to get in line with the Pre- 
cepts of Jesus, and to live in harmony with these 
American people living about you.” Hardwick fin- 
ished his talk. 

“Members of other churches are not Christians!” 
chirped the fat one. 

“They are, according to the Bible and Common 
Prayer,” answered Samuel. 

“Foxville O’Grady, D.D., says they ain’t and I’ll 
believe him before you — he is a Bishop and you are 
not.” 

“What is all of the trouble, Samuel?” 

Hardwick looked up in surprise. Uriah had called 
to pay his respects to the new rector and family as 
he was travelling through Rosedale on his way to 
Sheridan. Being a man of considerable weight he 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


dropped down into the nearest chair with a ‘‘ plunk/ ^ 
Wiping the rivulets of water from his hot face, he 
laid aside his flat ‘‘Katie” and bored a hole through 
Bottomly with his left eye. 

“What is the trouble Samuel?” the stare of the 
orb in front of the left-hand side of a large face held 
August in a trance. He was afraid of but one man 
in the world and that man was the grouchy Uriah. 

“Mr. Bottomly here is not in harmony with our 
policy.” 

“Whut!” Grumble was too lazy to hear good at 
times, besides he wanted to go Ashing and the flies 
worried him. 

Samuel repeated his remark. 

‘ ‘ Did you insult my friend, Samuel, here ? ^ ' 

“ITl swear I didn’t, so help me bob,” whimpered 
August. 

“Tell me, Samuel?” 

“Yes,” replied the parson sadly. 

Uriah was a powerful man when fllled with a just 
indignation. Rising from the chair he seemed to be 
looking for something but couldn’t And it. The 
perspiration burned his eyes and nearly blinded him. 
Yes, August was a philosopher and reasoned that a 
hasty departure on his part might patch up matters. 
Excusing himself he ran away, glad that Grumble 
hadn ’t laid hands on him. 

Uriah was a large-hearted, honest man and every- 
body knew it; but whenever he saw either of the 

[i66] 


PERSECUTION AT ROSEDALE 


sneaking Bottotmlys, or members of their miserable 
clique, it made him real mad. 

Bottomly fumed, snorted, and leaped, for the par- 
ish was slowly going to the dogs. He had an under- 
standing with Miss Sarah "Wooley, organist of Rose- 
dale and a clever Ritualist. She promised to help 
drive out Hardwick with heart, mind, soul, and 
strength for the sake of the divine principles of snob- 
bery. On the following Sunday afternoon the head 
of the parish instructed her to follow the rubrics of 
the Protestant Prayer-book. Wooley saw a chance 
here to quarrel with Hardwick and she grabbed it 
with the zeal of a snapping turtle. 

“I’ll not do it,” she cried, exposing her teeth and 
shaking her ancient curls over a catty brow. 

“Is that so?” he asked. 

“It is so and you are to understand that this 
church is going to continue on a Catholic basis, and 
don’t you forget it!” she flashed. 

‘ ‘ If the communicants of this parish decide to follow 
the directions of the Book of Common Prayer, I do 
not see how you can stop them Miss Wooley. You will 
fin d that a congregation of free people will not listen 
to the principles of mean, despotic, dishonest graft 
you represent. ’ ’ 

Wooley departed at once and reported the shame- 
ful proceedings to Foxville 0 ’Grady, Grumble, Love- 
lace, Prettyman, young Crabbit, and the Bottomly 
brothers. 

The Vestry and congregation, of course, upheld 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


Hardwick and incurred the everlasting hate of 
Wooley, as August’s was already well established. 

The Ritualists realized that they were beaten, hut 
organized for a final clash. The Bottomly boys, 
Wooley and one other henchman adopted a plan be- 
lieved to be perfect for the elimination of their rec- 
tor. They visited every church home in Rosedale 
and in some instances in tears begged the people to 
discontinue their support of such an unworthy man 
as Samuel. Hardwick had come to them and then 
betrayed the great cause, greed, bigotry, and exclu- 
siveness; he had no principle, to he sure, and for 
the sake of peace among old friends and neighbors 
ought to be removed for the common good. 0 ’Grady 
and Prettyman now seeing that the Vestry and con- 
gregation were immovable, promised them a good 
Evangelical rector if they would remove Hardwick. 
Further, that he would secure a good field for their 
rector. But the people were intelligent and used to 
the subtle promises of this world. They refused and 
O’Grady and his satellites roared with rage and in- 
tense mortification. 

The Ritualists were playing a deadly game and 
struck out wildly; and the absurd thing was their 
inferior numbers. They made things so hot for 
Samuel that in the crisis he called a meeting of the 
whole congregation and said : 

“I have been serving you as rector for some time. 
Several people here have been constant trouble- 
makers. Mr. Bottomly, Miss Wooley, Miss Blackie 
and William Yellowhoy are the ring leaders in a 

[i68] 


PERSECUTION AT ROSEDALE 


movement to foster the principles of hate. I am 
here to build up the principles of love and affection. 
You can as Americans and Churchmen decide 
whether you are going to submit to the bigotry of 
the Bottomly-Wooley-Yellowboy clique, or to stand 
firm for the great principles of truth, equality, and 
brotherly love in the work of the Church. ’ ’ 

^‘All in favor of Dr. Hardwick please stand, re- 
quested a white-haired man connected with the 
church since his baptism seventy years ago. 

Every member arose except Bottomly, Wooley, 
Blackie and Yellowboy. 

By a unanimous vote, with the exception of the 
four reactionaries, Mr. E. Caraway Hope was elected 
Senior Warden. St. Andrew’s began to take cour- 
age and grow unto this day, for men know that they 
are welcome there. 

‘‘I’ll tell Foxville O’Grady on you people, see if I 
don’t!” moaned August, ambling out through the 
back door. 

“Brethren, let us pray before we depart,” said 
the minister. “0 God, Who despisest not the sighing 
of a contrite heart, nor the desire of such as are sor- 
rowful, mercifully assist our prayers which we make 
before Thee in all our troubles ,* and graciously hear 
us, that those evils which the craft and subtlety of 
the devil or man worketh against us, may by Thy 
good Providence be brought to naught; that we. Thy 
servants, being hurt by no persecutions, may ever- 
more give thanks unto Thee in Thy holy Church, 
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.” 

[169] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


The brethren left the hall and went to their homes. 

The rectory became a happy place now, for James 
and little “Buddy” could play on the grass as well 
as meander along the flower-covered banks of the 
Silvertide. After a while the air of the stone house 
seemed permeated with hope and cheerfulness. 
Robins romped and chattered on the well-kept lawn. 
The “kids” erected a tent in front of the doctor’s 
window and played during many blessed days. One 
evening E. Caraway Hope paid the rector a friendly 
visit and offered to help the parish along in his new 
office as warden. The Hardwicks trusted Hope, feel- 
ing confldent of his sincerity and manly character. 
They were never disappointed. Toward evening a 
pleasant conversation was enjoyed under the ma- 
jestic oak near the church. Patting the heads of the 
boys, this dear man left for home, leaving a grateful 
minister sitting with his family thinking about 
things. Somewhere down the street the flow of the 
Silvertide fussed with the water-wheel; its gentle 
“swish, swish” coming and receding with moody 
winds. 

Upon retiring for rest, “Buddy” heard Dad say 
’mid the darkness beyond : 

‘ ‘ ‘ The Lord is my shepherd ; I shall not want. He 
maketh me to lie down in green pastures : he leadeth 
me beside the still waters.’ ” 

A lump rose up in “Buddy’s” throat, lingered, and 
soon he fell asleep, dreaming of a big angel. That 
angel was Mother, of course, because she woke him 
up tucking the coverlet over his little body. 

[170] 


CHAPTER XXI 


INTERESTING CHITCHAT 

Several days after the dedication, the rector of 
Warrentown boarded the northbound express at Ellis 
Junction, about half a mile from the city; this en- 
abled him to reach Smithfield earlier, than if he had 
taken the Interurban. Arriving at the Antlers about 
eight thirty that morning, he was surprised as well 
as gratified to observe the approaching form of Judson. 

‘ ‘ How are you parson ? ’ ’ 

“Pretty good Jud. How are things going?” 

“Not so good as it might be.” 

“Why, what have you been doing lately,” asked 
the doctor. 

“I’ve been out at Rosedale, watching the persecu- 
tion of Hardwick.” 

“Is A. Bottomly busy out there ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, but recently suffered defeat.” 

“How is that?” 

“Mr. Edward Hope was elected warden at their 
parish meeting.” 

“I am very glad to hear it,” replied Lament, “you 
know Ed. has been fighting that clique for about 
twenty-five years. ’ ’ 

“That’s a long time,” answered the detective. 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“By the way Jud, who do you think is behind all 
that devilment out there?” 

“We have information in our office, which shows 
that the Rt. Rev. Foxville O'Grady is actively direct- 
ing the campaign against this rector and congrega- 
tion.” 

“I suppose he is aided and abetted by Prettyman 
and Horace?” 

“Without the shadow of a doubt,” replied Judson. 

“I’ll see you later,” Lamont continued, “Keep 
your eyes open.” 

‘ ‘ Trust me for that Doctor. ’ ’ 

Lamont reached the Skinner mansion about ten 
o’clock. Julia received him with becoming affection. 

“So you are here again, my dear?” 

“Yes sweetheart,” he replied. 

“Why did you come so soon?” she asked moving 
her baby foot to and fro on the carpet. 

“Because I couldn’t stay away any longer,” con- 
fessed Fletcher. 

“Really?” she quizzed. 

‘ ‘ Truly, ’ ’ he answered. 

‘ ‘ How much do you care, Fletcher ? ’ ’ 

“ Oh !• About a peek. ’ ’ 

“You said one day you cared a bushel.” 

‘ ‘ I did then. ’ ’ 

“Why not now?” she said looking puzzled. 

“Because I’ve lost three pecks of my affection since 
you have been so attentive to Percy. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Don ’t be silly, Fletcher ! ’ ’ 


INTERESTING CHITCHAT 


'‘All right you sweet thing,” he said smiling. 

' ‘ How is Miss Clever getting along ? ’ ’ she asked. 

"You had better ask Percy, he took her home last.” 

"I’m not interested in Percy,” she pouted. 

"It didn’t look like it the other day,” he replied 
severely. 

‘ ' If you really cared so much, you might have come 
after me that day at Smithfield. ’ ’ 

"Well, I never thought of that!” 

"Percy asked if I had some one to go with!” 

"I’m getting tired of that fellow, ’ ’ he said flushing. 

Sometime after luncheon, the mail carrier brought a 
letter which the Judge read with profound interest. 
It was written by George Dolittle, and had been sent 
to every parish and mission in the diocese. It went on 
to show that the election of Archdeacon Prettyman 
was illegal. Then he went on in detail and explained 
why this was so. When he had flnished Julia was 
amazed, while Fletcher sat quietly smiling. 

‘ ‘ It seems we haven ’t a Bishop-elect now, ’ ’ declarea 
the Judge, pulling away at his pipe. 

"What will they do about it papa ? ’ ’ 

"Why nothing child, except to have another election 
when the Annual Convention meets.” 

"You two men do not seem to be very much sur- 
prised about it,” she said looking at both of them 
keenly. 

"No, we knew that ever since the special election,” 
spoke up her father. 

"And you never told me !” she sobbed. The Judge 

[173] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 

slipped quietly as he felt that Julia could now make 
some apologies for her past frivolities. 

“What are you crying about? I’ll bet you are 
sorry for Percy.” 

“No I’m sorry for myself,” she said leaning her 
face on his broad shoulder. 

“Why beloved ? ” he whispered. 

“Because I’ve been unkind to you all along,” she 
said sobbing constantly. 

“Now do stop crying.” 

It was truly wonderful how quickly she responded 
to his kind affectionate treatment, for doctor Lamont 
could wipe away human tears when he wanted to. 

“I do declare,” said the Judge coming in just at 
this time,” if you two young people don’t beat all! 
I suppose now Miss Skinner, you won’t go out to the 
park with the elected Bishop any more. ’ ’ 

“Daddy dear. I’ll never disobey you again,” she 
cried throwing her pretty arms about his wrinkled 
neck. Then the Judge laughed heartily and left for 
his smoking room, followed by Lamont. 

Shortly after a Mrs. Westman called to see Miss 
J ulia about some diocesan matters in which the women 
of the diocese were interested ; she was the worst gossip 
and scandal peddler in the Church at Rosedale. After 
relating several items of general interest she began to 
talk about Mrs. Hardwick, saying: 

“Don’t you know Julia, she is a horrible woman!” 

“What has she been doing?” 

[174] ; 


INTERESTING CHITCHAT 


“She was born on a farm/^ answered Mrs. West- 
man. 

“Is that a crime?” asked the Judge’s daughter. 

“Well no, but she is an upstart don ’t you know ! ’ ’ 

“How does she misbehave?” asked Julia. 

‘ ‘ She thinks she is somebody ! ’ ’ 

“Maybe she is — she is a rector’s wife anyway!” 

‘ ^ She is a rank Protestant ! ’ ’ 

“My dear, she seems to be a lovable Christian,” 
Julia replied in defense of the absent woman. 

“I despise her, for she is pro-German,” cried the 
worldly woman with bitter hate. 

“You are mistaken,” cried Julia hotly, “for I know 
that she is a fine American woman. ’ ’ 

“She gave several hundred dollars to German 
children ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Do you mean those starving children of Europe ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, those infant Huns.” 

“Would you give them a piece of bread, for Christ’s 
dear sake, Mrs. Westman?” 

“Not a crumb!” sneered that person, “I am a true 
American. ’ ’ 

“Do you consider our beloved president a good 
American ? ’ ’ 

“Of course Julia.” 

“Well — well — ^you know he gave twenty-five hun- 
dred dollars to help feed those poor, forsaken 
children.” 

“I don’t care if he did; I wouldn’t give one of them 
a crust of bread ! ’ ’ 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“Any news?” continued the heartless, Godless 
woman. 

“Why yes, here is a nice letter from the Rev. George 
Dolittle of Warrentown. Would you like to see it?” 

‘ ‘ Certainly, ^ ’ replied the older woman reaching out 
for it ; she read it carefully and then laid it down on 
the table. 

“I do not believe that Horace would do such a 
thing,” she declared. 

‘ ‘ Papa and several other gentlemen saw him do it, ’ ’ 
she answered looking into the cat-like eyes of the 
wicked woman. 

“Then I believe that your papa and his friends are 
lying, to injure Horace.” 

“Why does Dolittle send out these letters?” 

“I suppose that he has his reasons,” answered the 
girl. 

“He and Hardwick are always running around 
together. ’ ’ 

“Yes, but this is a free country you know !” George 
and the Rosedale rector are conducting a campaign in 
behalf of the people of India — there is a famine there 
I believe.” 

“Money ! Money ! All these rectors want is money. 
What do we care whether those Indians starve or not. 
Let England feed them, ’ ’ cried the evil one. 

“Christ taught us to feed the hungry and to care 
for the dying; to nurse the sick and to bind up the 
broken, ’ ’ replied the girl now greatly agitated. 

" “Julia you are a sentimental child.” 

[176] 


INTERESTING CHITCHAT 


“I know it Mrs. Westman, but I am glad that I have 
a heart filled with pity and forgiveness. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Westman now arose and left for an engage- 
ment in the city. She had always been jealous of 
Judge Skinner and this was intensified by his election 
to the Judgeship instead of Mr. Westman who coveted 
that office. 

Shortly after, Ponsonby ushered in Dr. Smooth, 
who sat down to enjoy a chat with the two men. 

“By the way Smooth, do you believe in dreams?” 
asked Skinner. 

‘ ‘ Sometimes. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I had one the other night. ’ ^ 

‘ ‘ Do tell it ! ” requested the editor laughing. 

“I dreamed that editor Smooth opened my private 
safe, one night and took out a couple of packages; 
Bottomly borrowed them from Lamont’s study one 
time, hence I was very anxious to keep them in the 
family.” 

“That is an interesting dream,” smiled the affable 
one. “You know I had a dream last night. Alfred 
Ponsonby and Judge Skinner were the chief actors 
in a little drama out at St. James ^ place. According 
to the dream, I borrowed them from Judge Skinner 
removing them to my office; the Judge felt impelled 
to go and remove them to a safer place. I do not blame 
him in the least, but I would like to have my safe 
back.” 

The Judge laughed, then said : 

“According to the law, it is my opinion that Skinner 
[177] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


must pay you in full, the value of the safe ; Smooth on 
the other hand ought to pay for committing a felony 
in the night, and the aforesaid Skinner feels that the 
damage amounts to just eight hundred dollars accord- 
ing to the dream 

'‘Well Judge, I’ll tell you,” said Smooth, “to save 
a great deal of trouble, well consider the debt paid 
and never mention it again. ’ ’ 

“Agreed,” replied the Judge cordially. You know 
politics isLpolitics and I do not hold any grudge.” 

‘ ‘ I am glad I have definitely left the right wing for 
the good old Prayer Book position,” said Smooth. 
“You men will get my support without reservation 
in the future. ’ ’ 

“Thank you!” responded both men gratefully as 
Doctor Smooth was a man of means socially, spir- 
itually, and intellectually. The editor of the Smith- 
field Churchman left for home after paying his 
respects to Miss Julia. 

Lamont stayed over until the next day at the urgent 
request of the Judge. After breakfast Julia asked 
him how he liked her cooking? If he liked his toast 
hot or cold? Whether he preferred ham or bacon? 
To all of these questions he answered to the best of his 
ability. Then the Judge said: 

“You will find out pretty quick what he likes and 
what he does not like after you are married. ’ ’ 

“Why dad, really now,” cried the charming lass 
running over and hugging his dear old neck, and 
patting his cheeks with a pair of pink fingers. 

[178] 


INTERESTING CHITCHAT 


‘‘You are cut out for a power behind the throne!” 
laughed her fond father kissing her tenderly. “By 
the way Lament, I have never noticed you kissing my 
daughter — don ^t you like her ? ^ ’ 

“ I ’ve never quite thought of it — er — ^you — know ! ’ ’ 
mumbled the doctor quite perturbed. ‘ ‘ Ow — I suppose 
it could be done. ’ ’ 

“The doctor is a cheerful liar, dad,” she replied, 
‘ ‘ for he has kissed me too much already. ^ ’ 

The father looked sternly at the parson. Then he 
spoke with mock severity, “Explain your intimate 
attentions to my daughter, sir 1 ” 

“ITl tell you Judge, I was simply following the 
direction of the Bible which tells me to give her the 
kiss of peace.” 

“Fletcher believes in the Bible dad.” 

“He can’t help it, it appears,” laughed the jurist 
leaving for his office, accompanied by the future 
Bishop of Smithfield — unless Bottomly voted! 


[179] 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE ANNUAL CONVENTION 

On the first Wednesday in January, at ten o’clock 
the sixty-fifth Annual Convention of the diocese of 
Smithfield convened at St. Mark’s Cathedral, the Rt. 
Rev. Foxville 0 ’Grady, D.D., presiding. 

The Rev. Archibald Pott was elected secretary 
and the Rev. George Dolittle was appointed his 
assistant. Judge Skinner was elected treasurer. The 
Rev. Messrs. Smooth, Crahbit, and Hardwick were 
elected clerical members of the Permanent Commit- 
tee ; and Messrs. Alfred Winfield Ponsonby and 
Edward C Hope lay members. 

The women elected Mrs. Charles Lovelace to suc- 
ceed Mrs. Westman as president of their organiza- 
tion. Miss Sarah Wooley ran for the secretaryship, 
but was defeated by Mrs. Hardwick of Rosedale. 
The Annual Convention was preceded by a day of 
prayer and conference for the clergy. The following 
subjects were under consideration: Was Prettyman 
the legal Bishop-elect or not? The Missionary Enter- 
prise; Church Finances. 

The debate on the Prettyman election was held in 
the parish house, with Bishop Foxville 0 ’Grady pre- 
siding. Bishop Uriah Grumble sat near him on the 
platform. By order of O’Grady the circular letter 

[i8o] 


THE ANNUAL CONVENTION 

sent out by Dolittle was read to the assembly. 
Haggerty 0 ’Donnell stood just inside the door, being 
on hand in case of a disturbance. The Bottomly 
brothers sneaked in shortly after the meeting opened 
and slid into one of the rear seats. 

“Horace Bottomly,” called out O’Grady, who was 
secretly in sympathy with him. 

“Yes, my Lord,” replied Bottomly. 

“You didn’t vote in Dr. Mabie’s place at the spe- 
cial Convention, did you, Horace?” requested the 
oily prelate from Rosemont. 

“No, I didn’t!” cried Bottomly in a nervous, high- 
pitched voice. 

“Then I declare that you are innocent of Dolittle ’s 
charge 1” 

“I guess you don’t!” roared Grumble, jumping to 
his feet. “You can’t pull off any stunt like that 
around here, O’Grady.” 

“I’m chairman of this meeting and you sit down!” 
roared the Ritualist, glaring at his brother Bishop. 

“I’ll not do it !” grumbled Grumble. "‘You haven’t 
conducted any regular trial, nor called for any evi- 
dence against that rat ! ’ ’ 

“If you feel that way about it, Uriah, I’ll conduct 
a special examination to please you,” he growled. 

The Bishop presiding now proceeded to organize 
a trial Court. Dolittle ’s charge was read again as 
a formality; Horace Bottomly entered a denial at 
once. Judge Skinner, George Dolittle, Alfred Pon- 
sonby, Dorsey, Archibald Pott and several others 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


gave the following testimony: “Just before the bal- 
loting began during the special Convention, Dr. 
Mabie had been called to the bedside of Bishop 
Crabbit; this was immediately after roll call. Bot- 
tomly slipped into Dr. Mabie ’s seat and voted in his 
place. As but two-thirds of the parishes and mis- 
sions were represented by delegates, it was necessary 
that Prettyman receive ninety-two clerical and sixty 
lay votes for election. Prettyman received fifty-nine 
good votes from the laity and ninety-two from the 
clergy, together with Bottomly’s illegal vote. At 
that time it was assumed that the sixty lay votes 
were legal, therefore, electing the Archdeacon be- 
yond the shadow of a doubt. Bottomly being an ex- 
communicated man was not permitted to cast a vote ; 
further, he was not even a delegate from any parish 
or mission. ’ ’ 

“Bottomly voted,” declared Judge Skinner, “by 
force of habit, as he had been doing it for over forty 
years. ’ ’ 

“Why didn’t you fellows challenge his vote dur- 
ing the meeting?” cried his brother, August Bot- 
tomly, in a rasping voice. ' ‘ Seems like you are play- 
ing politics in waiting so long.” 

“Sit down!” roared Grumble. 

“You keep still!” cried 0 ’Grady, looking at Grum- 
ble with a fierce expression on his face. “I am pre- 
siding here, not you! Don’t you interrupt me 
again ! ’ ’ 

“I won’t sit down,” cried the little man, feeling 
[182] 


THE ANNUAL CONVENTION 


encouraged since O’Grady took his part. “Every- 
body is picking on Horace and me! The world is 
going to the dogs!” 

‘ ‘ Why don ’t you pass judgment on the Prettyman 
election, Right Reverend?” asked the Judge. 

The foxy prelate from Rosemont looked over the 
situation carefully, and knew that Bottomly had 
been in the wrong and was now lying to cover it 
up. The testimony just submitted from several gen- 
tlemen of good character relative to the false ballot 
was convincing ; he must rule the election of Pretty- 
man as null and void and call for another election. 
It angered him to have to bend to the will of the 
inevitable, but he could not do otherwise, as he was 
not popular, anyway. 

“In view of the evidence submitted to this Court 
I declare the recent election of the Ven. Percy 
Mortimer Prettyman as Bishop of Smithfield to be 
null and void. Tomorrow at two o ’clock in the after- 
noon it is my pleasure that another election be held 
in order to elect the future Bishop of this juris- 
diction.” Then the Court sat down while the secre- 
tary read several notices of general interest. 

“As Mr. Bottomly has been proven guilty of false- 
hood, I move that he be ordered out of the building,” 
said Judge Skinner. 

“I second the motion,” added Dean Pott. 

A vote was taken on the question and the brethren 
were almost unanimous in desiring the ejection of 
Bottomly. 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 

Then the Bishop of Rosemont said : 

“It is assumed by many that the Church is a 
democracy, but I am here to say that it is a mon- 
archy, inasmuch as I have received my power and 
authority from God alone. I, therefore, intend to 
rule by divine right. Judge Skinner, Hope, Ponsonby, 
Hardwick, Lament, Dorsey, Pott, and Dolittle are 
hereby excommunicated from the Church for un- 
christian conduct. It is with pleasure that I restore 
Mr. Horace Bottomly to full communion in the 
Church.” 

The gentlemen comprising the large assembly were 
astonished, sitting quietly for some moments. Then 
Bottomly broke in: 

“You people can’t keep me out of the Church! 
I’ll stay in forty more years, see if I don’t!” 

The side door of the hall opened and a large hand- 
some man announced that lunch was ready to be 
served. 

“Lunch!” yelled a hundred voices. “We’ll do 
without today!” 

“I make a motion that Bishop Grumble be elected 
to preside over this meeting in place of Bishop 
O’Grady,” declared Fletcher, smiling. 

“I’ll tack a second on that motion, by bally!” 
cried George, sneezing. 

“All in favor say aye !” yelled Lament. 

“Aye!” stormed the angry voices of the abused 
members of the meeting. 


THE ANNUAL CONVENTION 


“Haggerty!” said the Judge, wiping his face. 

“Here, boss!” 

“Dethrone a king and put Grumble in his place at 
once!” 

0 ’Grady, realizing that resistance was useless, 
quietly withdrew to the rear of the hall and sat 
down. Bishop Grumble now mounted the shaky 
throne. 

“Skinner, Hope, Ponsonby, Hardwick, Lamont, 
Dorsey, Pott, Dolittle, and Bottomly will now ap- 
proach,” he mumbled with a look of determination 
on his face. These men now walked up and stood 
in a row in front of him. 

“I hereby remove the late restoration of one Hor- 
ace Bottomly and excommunicate him from the 
Church for fraud, lying, forty years of petty mean- 
ness, and unchristian. conduct generally!” 

Here the Bishop paused to pour out a large glass 
of water, drank it, set the tumbler down leisurely 
and continued: “All of you men standing before 
me with the exception of Bottomly I am glad to re- 
store to full communion and fellowship. We will 
now adjourn for lunch, as I am tolerably hungry.” 

After an afternoon spent in interesting discussion, 
a short devotional period was conducted by the Rev. 
Dr. Lamont of Warrentown at the request of Bishop 
Grumble. 

On the following morning the Ritualists were ob- 
served working in quiet determination to have their 
[185] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


candidate elected at the afternoon session. To coun- 
teract this Lament had twelve of his close friends 
circulate among the brethren during the social hour. 
The letters written by 0 ’Grady to Prettyman relative 
to the plans and policy of the Ritualistic Association, 
together with details of the Reinkin case, were ex- 
hibited to every delegate present. Prettyman, the 
Bottomlys, Sarah Wooley and Bishop Foxville 
O’Grady were beside themselves with mortification. 
The cause was lost and they knew it; the hand- 
writing was upon the wall ; Lament the invincible 
and peerless leader made public their schemes of 
ecclesiastical piracy with absolute fearlessness. He 
stood for the strong, pure principles of conservative 
Protestantism according to the standards of the Bible 
and Prayer Book; they stood for the principles of 
bigotry, mediaevalism, unAmericanism, snobbery, 
and all of the miserable doctrines and practices of 
an enslaved past. 

A minority had bossed a majority in the diocese 
of Smithfield long enough. They were a reactionary 
clique and the movement was confined largely to 
the clergy. Whenever they were present in any 
meeting there was sure to be more or less quarreling 
and miserable back-biting. Now they were desperate 
and showed their teeth. 

At two o’clock in the afternoon the battle was 
on, but it was a quiet, intense meeting of opposing 
forces. After prayer, nominations were made and 


THE ANNUAL CONVENTION 


a half-hour recess taken. The nominees and the re- 
sults of the ballots follow : 

First Ballot 



Clerical 

Lay 

Dr. Lamont 

...62 

145 

Dean Pott 

...50 

6 

Prettyman, D.D 

...75 

19 

Bishop Grumble 

...20 

5 


— 

— 


207 

175 

Necessary to Choice 

...104 

88 

Second Ballot 

Dr. Lamont 

...96 

162 

Dean Pott 

...40 

4 

Prettyman, D.D 

...32 

3 

Bishop Grumble 

...32 

1 


200 

170 

Necessary to Choice 

...101 

86 

Third Ballot 

Dr. Lamont ’ 

...175 

156 

Dean Pott 

... 5 

5 

Prettyman, D.D 

...13 

2 

Bishop Grumble 

... 8 

0 


— ^ — 

— 


201 

163 

Necessary to Choice 

...101 

82 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


The Rev. Fletcher Lament, D.D., rector of the 
Church at Warrentown, was declared elected on the 
third ballot, and on motion of the Rev. Dean Pott, 
the choice was made unanimous. 

Perfect harmony and brotherly love prevailed 
throughout the proceedings in the Church, after such 
a stormy time in the parish house during the preced- 
ing day. Dr. Lament was called to the front, and 
in a brief address thanked the brethren for their con- 
fidence and trust. Dr. Lament’s consecration was 
fixed for January the twentieth of that memorable 
year. 

Dean Goodman suggested that a meeting be held 
that evening in the parish house in order to formu- 
late plans looking forward to the consecration of the 
Bishop-elect. 

The Convention thought otherwise and requested 
Bishop Grumble to appoint a committee of three. 
Dean Goodman, Dean Pott, and Dr. Smooth were 
selected. 

The Rt. Rev. Foxville O’Grady, D.D., now secured 
the floor and said : 

“Permit me to say, that while I differ with your 
Bishop-elect in questions pertaining to the Church’s 
life and work, yet I am glad after all that you have 
elected a man of the highest possible qualifications — 
the learned doctor from Warrentown. While I have 
opposed him in the past, it seems necessary now in 
view of the great needs of a united Church for us to 
bury our petty differences and unite on a common 

[i88] 


THE ANNUAL CONVENTION 


platform, the rubrics of Common Prayer and the Pre- 
cepts of Jesus ! In the future if I can be of any help 
to the new Bishop I shall he glad to render every 
assistance in my power.” Then he sat down quietly. 

The Bishop-elect responded in a pleasing manner. 

“The kind words spoken by the Bishop of Rose- 
mont mean much to me. I assure him of my deep 
and sincere appreciation of his offer to help me in 
my work; his offer to abandon the mummery and 
tinsel of a benighted age is a hopeful sign, sure to be 
followed by success and prosperity in his diocese. 
We all have been paying more attention to petty poli- 
tics and Churchianity than to the precious Gospel. 
Let us all reform our ways of conducting ourselves 
in Christ ’s Vineyard, as brothers united in a common 
task ! ’ ’ Lamont finished. 

The Convention now arose and sang, “Blest be the 
tie that binds.” A great Annual Convention stood 
adjourned. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


TRUTH WILL PREVAIL 

On the twentieth of January the Rev. Fletcher 
Lament D. D. was consecrated Bishop of the diocese of 
Smithfield. The solemn ceremony began at ten min- 
utes after ten o’clock with a large congregation 
assembled. The Rt. Rev. Uriah Grumble preached a 
powerful sermon on the “Advantages of an ever in- 
creasing Episcopate, ’ ’ and held the clergy and common 
people enraptured for one hour and eighteen minutes. 
Bishop Grumble was assisted by the Rt. Rev. John B. 
Lovelace D. D. of the diocese of^Epney, and the Rt. 
Rev. Casper Brushington S. T. D. of the diocese of 
Kepney. Bishop Foxville O’Grady was unable to be 
present on account of an attack of rheumatism. 

After the address the Bishop-elect vested with his 
Rochet was presented to Bishop Grumble, sitting in his 
chair near the Holy Table ; Bishop Lovelace who pre- 
sented him said: 

“Reverend Bishop, we present you this godly and 
learned man, to be consecrated a Bishop of the 
Church.” 

Bishop Brushington read the usual testimonials. 

The Bishop-elect then knelt and promised entire 
conformity to the doctrine, discipline and worship of 

[190] 


TRUTH WILL PREVAIL 


the Protestant Church in the United States of 
America, Grumble removed his spectacles, coughed 
violently, mumbled something to Ponsonhy about poor 
ventilation, and then said in a rough voice : 

“Look here Lament, you have just promised obe- 
dience to the doctrine, discipline and worship of the 
Protestant Reform Religion as taught by the glorious 
Church of England! So when you are out of our 
sight don ’t let us hear of your dressing up in a lot of 
lace and ribbons, in imitation of the nuncio of Bagdad 1 
To-day you swear obedience and conformity to the 
Protestant Church; we hope you will not deny it to- 
morrow as several have done in the past/’ 

“Water!” continued Uriah, “I am as thirsty as a 
fish.” Ponsonhy stepped lightly to the table nearby 
and poured out a large flagon of water for the perspir- 
ing Apostle. 

At the conclusion of the service August Bottomly 
arose and addressed the Bishop presiding, an unusual 
thing in a special consecration service. 

“This consecration is invalid as Bishop Grumble 
omitted saying or singing all the Veni, Creator 
Spiritus, for the rubric orders it to he used. ’ ’ 

“You have poor eye-sight Bottomly, for if you will 
study the rubrics carefully you will see that either the 
longer or shorter form may be used,” replied Uriah 
turning red in his broad face. 

“I say that my brother is right,” cackled Horace 
looking straight at Grumble with an angry expression 
dwelling upon the features of his little face. ‘ ‘ I have 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


seen no such consecration during the past forty years ! 
ITl make trouble for you see if I don’t !” 

Haggerty O’Donnel had arrived a short time pre- 
vious to the consecration, sitting respectfully near the 
door; he had come because of the esteem in which he 
held doctor Lamont — and it might please the Judge. 

Grumble was white and quite helpless as Bottomly 
walked up and down the aisle, whinning, whimpering, 
sneering, blinking ferociously out of his wee ferret 
eyes. 

Summoning up all of his strength he leaned forward 
in his chair, while Bishop Brushington coughed dis- 
creetly, and rumbled : 

‘ ‘ Haggerty ! ’ ’ 

“Yes Judge.” 

‘ ‘ Take that man out and carry him to the home for 
feeble minded.” 

0 ’Donnell slipped one arm around the cantankerous 
individual and carried him out kicking vigorously as 
he was very angry. 

“Some people forget their manners in the House 
of God, seeming to have no respect for anything or 
anybody.” declared Bishop Grumble just before an- 
nouncing the closing hymn. 

That evening Bishop Lamont repaired to the 
Skinner Mansion where an informal reception was 
held in his honor ; the visiting Bishops, clergy, and laity 
presented him with several handsome gifts in token of 
their love and profound respect for him. After a 


[192] 


TRUTH WILL PREVAIL 


pleasant hour most of the visitors departed, leaving 
Bishop Lamont, Dolittle, Pott, Dorsey, Hardwick, 
Smooth, Judson, Ponsonby, Hope and the Judge 
seated about the study fire. Prettyman had left 
earlier in the evening to fill another engagement. For 
several minutes they sat quietly looking into the fire. 
Ponsonby broke the ice by coughing respectfully while 
engaged in passing around a box of cigars. Then the 
Bishop said : 

“I am glad that Bishop O’Grady gave up Ritual- 
ism.” He looked earnestly into the faces of his com- 
panions and settled back comfortably in the Judge’s 
chair, adding ‘‘Ritualism and Churchianity are dying 
a slow death.” 

“What do you mean by the term Churchianity ?” re- 
quested one of the younger men respectfully. “I 
ought to know but have never referred to the dic- 
tionary. ’ ’ 

Lamont smiled in his quiet way and spoke in a 
kind manner for the enlightenment of his comrade : 

‘ ‘ Churchianity is a tendency to promote the interest 
of the Church or clergy, rather than the spirtual wel- 
fare of the people.” 

“Do you believe that our clergy are guilty of 
Churchianity in the diocese of Smithfield?” asked 
Dean Pott. 

“Yes, the Ritualistic wing is more than guilty,” 
replied the Bishop looking sad. “They emphasize 
the externals of worship and government, more than 

[193] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


the inward spiritual part. Most of them are more 
interested in the petty adjuncts of ceremonial for 
their own glorification, than in the salvation of men 
on a large scale. ’ ^ 

‘‘Why don’t they leave and unite with an organiza- 
tion where they will be at home ? ’ ’ asked Smooth. 

“Because they calculate that they can do more 
damage to Protestantism by remaining among us. ’ ’ 

“Some of them seem to be first-rate enough.” re 
plied Dorsey. 

“Sure,” replied Lament. “I have met some very 
fine learned men among them but that is not the issue ; 
if they remain in this Church of ours, they must abide 
by her rubrics, canons and laws. ’ ’ 

“Are they making much headway among the laity 
generally,” asked Ponsonby with an interested ex- 
pression playing upon the features of his impassive 
face. 

“No, not in the least; their work is done almost 
exclusively among the clergy,” laughed Lament. 

‘ ‘ How is that doctor ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ They capture a young cleric, fill him with a lot of 
Ritualistic bunk, and then turn him loose. In about 
five or six years, after he has been kicked about like a 
foot-ball from pillar to post, he either reforms and 
settles down in a Protestant parish ; or, links up with 
some fashionable Church with many red vestments 
and few people attending the services.” 

“What do you think of the Bishop of Rosemont’s 

[m] 


TRUTH WILL PREVAIL 


speech just after your consecration, Bishop?” asked 
Hardwick. 

“AVhy I thought it was splendid of him, why?” 
And Lamont looked at the Rosedale rector surprised. 

“Maybe, Mr. Judson could enlighten you,” mur- 
mured the rector politely glancing at the detective. 

“Come Judson, we are burning up with curiosity,” 
cried several voices at once. 

The operative smiled. He had united with the 
Cathedral congregation some time ago and had grown 
to love the Church with tender affection; he was an 
Evangelical and naturally felt it his duty to render 
any assistance in his power. The Bishop had a tender 
spot in his heart for him ever since he helped him 
recover the two packets, out near St. James’ Place, 
on a dark night not so very long ago. Judson was 
thoughtful. 

‘ ‘ Immediately after the consecration service, I over- 
heard O’Grady tell Prettyman that his abandonment 
of the Ritualistic party was made publicly with a 
mental reservation ; that Lamont was elected and while 
there was not help for it, it was necessary to pursue 
a policy of apparent friendliness ; that in time Lamont 
might be influenced more and more to make conces- 
sions to the brethren within his diocese for the sake 
of peace.” Then Judson sat down. 

Various exclamations of pity, surprise and disgust 
fell from the lips of the assembled clergy. They ques- 
tioned each other. Could it be possible for a man of 
0 ’Grady’s position in life, to make a public statement 

[ 195 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


with a cunning mental reservation and secret evasion ? 
At any rate one thing was certain, Judson had always 
told the truth in the past, being a sleuth of unimpeach- 
able character and having a fine record at head- 
quarters. 

Doctor Smooth broke the spell, saying, 

“You can’t trust one of that crowd, Lamont!” 

‘ ‘ They seem to be devoid of any sort of professional 
veracity. I am pained though, to find out the gentle- 
man from Rosemont so soon. He probably thinks 
that he has managed a nice little reconciliation to be 
in force, so long as it indirectly serves his purposes, ’ ’ 
replied the doctor. 

“At one time I was under obligation to O’Grady,” 
broke in the Judge “And he practically forced me to 
repay him by entering into a conspiracy with Bot- 
tomly, to secure a copy of Lamont ’s private records. 
While Horace secured the papers it was 0 ’Grady who 
was really guilty, for he was the man who started 
things. After a time I was able to discharge my 
obligations, and be free and independent of the 
0 ’Grady clique in all of their unholy works, ’ ’ declared 
Judge Skinner puffing rapidly on his cigar. 

“Judson,” said Archibald Pott, “ought to have a 
medal for his able services to the Church as well as 
her representatives. I used to think a lot of Percy, 
but have lost all of my affection for him, since he went 
back on the Prayer Book and his ordination vow. ’ ’ 

“You said a mouthful that time Pott!” snapped 
the sharp voice of the Warrentown curate. 

[196] 


TRUTH WILL PREVAIL 


The rector of Rosedale, Hardwick, now addressed 
the men: 

“I have suffered bitter persecution over at Rose- 
dale/’ 

“Who were your opponents?” asked Dorsey. 

“Mrs. Westman, O’Grady, Horace! and Au^st 
Bottomly and Miss Sarah Wooley.” 

Lamont now interrupted them. 

“Let me see, O’Grady came from Canada several 
years ago, having been a member of an alien religious 
order. He, according to my latest information, is 
still in close contact with Ecker, the Superior General 
of that unAmerican, unchristian organization. Yes, 
he managed somehow to get elected by hook or crook 
to the See of Rosemont and lives well on a nice fat 
salary ; recently thirty of his followers left our Church, 
in order to unite with ona steeped in ignorance, 
sacerdotalism and hypocrisy.” 

There was a knock on the door. Ponsonby arose, 
left, returned presently with the Rt. Rev. Poxville 
O’Grady D. D. 

“Bishop we are glad to see you,” spoke Lamont 
easily toying with his silver match-box. “Fact is, 
we were just speaking of you a moment ago.” 

0 ’Grady glanced quietly about him without a trace 
of nervousness and said in a pleasant voice : 

“How interesting.” 

“Yes it will be interesting my brother, I am sure” 

“What are you insinuating Fletcher?” 

“Nothing in particular, only I am told that not so 

[197] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


long ago you received a communication from Ecker, 
your former confessor and boss in Canada ; it com- 
manded you to defeat me at all costs as the diocese 
of Smithfield must be romanized; this could be done 
by electing the Archdeacon. You sat down and wrote 
him a letter, lost it and wrote another and mailed it. 
In it you promised perfect obedience ! ’ ’ 

“ It is a lie ! ’ ’ cried the enraged ecclesiastic bellowing 
with righteous indignation. 

‘‘Mr. Judson will you please produce two important 
epistles ? ’ ’ asked Lament smiling serenely 

That worthy bowed and layed two letters on the 
table near the grate. O’Grady took them and read 
each one with rage, mortification, and shame appear- 
ing gradually upon his pale face; think of it — Ecker ’s 
letter and his reply ! Quick as a flash he tossed them 
into the flames sighing with relief. Turning quickly 
as if expecting trouble he found the group seated 
calmly observing him. Then he cried ; 

‘ ‘ What can you do now — see those charred remains 
of your proof?” he sneered pointing to the curling, 
crumbling ashes in the fire. 

‘ ‘ Those letters were accurate copies of the originals 
which rest securely within the walls of the State 
Bank down town.” 

“Well — well — I would suggest that brother 
O’Grady resign his jurisdiction on account of an in- 
compatibility of temperament, and report to brother 
Ecker in his Canadian home ! ’ ’ urged Lamont. 

“I’ll second that little suggestion,” broke in Judge 
[198] 


TRUTH WILL PREVAIL 


Skinner. “We are sure that brother O’Grady would 
enjoy a change of climate.” 

The Rosemont prelate studied the situation care- 
fully, and said : 

‘ ‘ Suppose I decide to stay. ’ ’ 

“Then we will call your gracious majesty before 
the bar of ecclesiastical justice and squash you,” cried 
Lament smoothly. 

“I’ll go — damn you protestant bigots! Yes, I’ll go 
for I can’t beat men who are leagued up with the 
devil ! ’ ’ 

“You made a slight mistake O’Grady, for you are 
the king of petty reactionary bigotry You have never 
cared a damn for the Church of Christ nor one iota for 
the salvation of men and women ; you have cared only 
for one Foxville 0 ’Grady and the interests of a treach- 
erous leech called Ecker. You have been the instigator 
of all the politics, wire-pulling and petty meanness in 
this diocese, ever since your arrival at Rosemont. With 
the help of Mr Judson and God Almighty we have 
saved the day for the sublime truths of the Protestant 
Reformation. ’ ’ 

Ponsonby lead O’Grady out quietly. 

Miss Julia stepped in presently and said: 

‘ ' Papa, if you are not intending to hold an all night 
session you had better show your friends their rooms. ’ ’ 

For nearly an hour Ponsonby ran about arranging 
the rooms for the tired, happy guests, muttering, 
“This has been a full day — a full day!” 

[ 199 ]- 


CHAPTER XXIV 


WEDDING BELLS 

A FEW days before Lent, Bishop Lamont and Miss 
Julia Skinner had their marriage solemnized at the 
Cathedral Church, Bishop Lovelace officiating. 

The young bride wore a satin dress, trimmed in 
Irish lace, handed down from her great-grandmother 
on her mother ^s side, Cynthia Lee Holmes, who lived 
on a plantation near Portsmouth, Virginia. Her only 
attendant was Sylvia Betty Corrigan, while the 
groom was attended by the Rev. George Dolittle. As 
the Bishop loved simplicity, the wedding was very 
quiet out of deference to his wishes. There was an 
informal wedding reception immediately after the 
ceremony at high noon. Many beautiful presents 
were given to Mrs. Lamont by admiring friends and 
relatives. About four o’clock every one had gone 
their several ways when Julia said to her husband : 

“Let us spend our honeymoon on Granny Holmes’ 
plantation, dear.” 

“How far is it from the city?” he asked, agreeably. 

“Four miles, I believe.” 

“When shall we start?” 

“Let us leave on the five-ten, as Papa can see about 
our baggage.” 

The following evening at four o’clock the train 


WEDDING BELLS 


stopped at Suffolk. Here tke couple had to transfer 
to a branch line running into Portsmouth. They 
waited about two hours before it put in its appear- 
ance among the tall pine trees. It was a diminutive 
engine, which made considerable noise and slow 
progress. A giant negro was piling wood into the 
rickety firebox as she stopped at the station. Then 
he was heard to exclaim : 

“Lawd! Lawd! dis am hot work, dat’s what it 
am!’^ 

Judge Fowler was passing at this time and over- 
heard the remark. As he owned most of the stock 
in the branch line, it disturbed him to hear one of 
his employees complaining. 

“What is you niggers good fo’, anyway? You all 
stand around mos ’ of the day and den kick on a little 
work. ’Speck you want to borrow fifty cents first 
thing I know.” 

The nigger dropped the shovel and ran after the 
Judge, crying in an apologetic manner : 

“For Gawd’s sake, don’t get sore at me, boss! I 
’dare don’ you know I is your nigger, nohow.” 

“Well, tend to your work and don’t bother me any 
more or complain again,” replied the Judge, “ ’cause 
I ain’t got no time to bother ’round you black sweet- 
taters.” 

“For goodness sake, come with me and look at 
these cars!” laughed Julia, taking Lament by the 
arm and walking over for a close inspection. One 
freight car and two passenger coaches, about twenty 

[ 201 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


feet in length ; a dirty brass lamp hanging from an 
aged ceiling; a floor as soiled as human ingenuity 
could make it; chairs in a circle near a tall stove 
in the front end with hard stiff-backed benches in 
the rear; and windows almost impossible to open or 
see through. 

“We can^t ride in that vehicle, dear,” he grumbled. 

“We must if we get over to Portsmouth,” she 
laughed. “Of course, we can manage to exist in 
some manner. My, the atmosphere smells like dead 
cats !” 

They wiped the seats with great care, when sud- 
denly Julia screamed : 

“Oh, Fletcher ! Help! Murder!” 

The doctor ran over to help her out of her diffi- 
culties. The poor girl had stepped into a well-fllled 
cuspidor. 

“Come here, you, you—” cried Fletcher to the 
ebony colored negro lying under a pine tree dozing, 
“and I will give you a quarter if you will unlace 
Mrs. Lament’s shoe.” 

Yas, sah ! Yas, sah ! ’ ’ cried the negro, running 
toward him and beginning his work; “I like dat 
money.” In a few moments he removed the shoe, 
exclaiming in disgust: “I ’dare dat am de nastiest 
mess I ever did see. I gwine ter empty dat cuspidor 
every week from now on ! ” 

“Toot! Toot! Toot!” sputtered the toy engine, 
moving away from the station with frantic efforts. 

[202] 


WEDDING BELLS 


“All aboard!” cried a tall, sallow-faced conductor 
after the train was fairly moving away. 

The train soon passed down into a swampy country 
filled with tall weeping pines covered with a coat of 
turpentine and scented bark. Now and then the res- 
onant bray of a jackass broke the stillness of a tur- 
pentine camp ; frogs croaked and rattled among the 
lily pads and green scum of the ponds along the 
railroad. 

“Fares, please!” drawled the lazy voice of Cap- 
tain Buggy Lee, as he reached into the rear pocket 
of his trousers for a plug of tobacco. “I’ve been 
runnin’ this old road for fifty years and never saw 
the skitters wuss ! ’ ’ 

The captain was a representative of the older 
school of railway men and was proud of it. His 
grandfather before him was a Lee and a member of 
the First Families of Virginia ; hence, he was a Lee, 
and while his material resources were at a low ebb 
he felt that the nobility of his blood made up the 
difference; and once a Lee, always a Lee was his 
philosophy boiled down. The composition of his uni- 
form was interesting as well as entertaining. It con- 
sisted of a faded pair of blue, baggy pantalettes, a 
dark blue coat with brass buttons attached in con- 
spicuous places, one coat-tail missing from its regu- 
lar place, and an old army cap worn by Col. Lee in 
the Wilderness Campaign. The Captain was subject 
to rheumatism and grumbled whenever he had to 
make his regular runs, to the distress of Aunt Gail, 

[203] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


his beloved wife. As they neared the old Holmes 
Plantation the nigger porter walked through the 
cars yelling in a loud voice : 

“Holmes Plantation!” 

In a few moments the train stopped at the station 
for water. It was soon discovered that the wood 
supply was exhausted. The Captain ordered the 
fireman, engineer and porter to cut down several 
trees at once for the use of the engine. While the 
fuel was being cut the newly-weds and Captain 
Buggy left for a tour of inspection over the old 
plantation. 

“Where is Granny’s house, Fletcher?” asked Julia, 
looking about and seeing nothing but several dilapi- 
dated hovels, near a pile of ruins. 

“I don’t know, Julia. Perhaps the Captain could 
inform us.” 

‘ ‘ That is the mansion there, what is left of it. Let 
us go over and see Sam Tater. He is the white boss 
and can tell us all about it.” 

Sam was driving by just at that moment and 
stopped about twenty feet away from them. They 
did not hear his approach, as the road was very 
sandy. He was driving a dun-colored mule which 
was attached to a two-wheeled cart of rude work- 
manship. It had thills made of two saplings. The 
wheels were made by cutting off the ends of two large 
logs, with holes bored in the center of each for the 
axle. The body of the cart was simple — a large dry 
goods box being firmly nailed into the axle. Sitting 

[204] 




“WHAT YOU ALL WANT?” 
Page 205. 


WEDDING BELLS 


inside on a cane bottom chair with grave dignity was 
Mrs. Tater. She was returning after making several 
social calls, clad in a light calico dress, with beautiful 
flowered designs, and resting upon her head was a 
sunbonnet of medium dimensions and ruffles. 

The harness was simple, consisting of a series of 
strings running about the animal in various places. 
A large string ran through the animal ’s mouth, serv- 
ing for a bit, and a pair of lines made out of a white 
clothes line completed the outfit. Presently Mrs. 
Tater took her tobacco pouch and deposited a liberal 
portion inside her right cheek and said : 

^‘What you all wantT’ 

^^This is Bishop and Mrs. Lamont, the owners of 
this plantation,’^ replied the Captain, rubbing his 
chin with his coat sleeve. “They wanted to spend 
the summer here in the ancestral mansion an’ sorta 
look around several weeks!” 

“Wall, I guess I ain’t kickin’,” replied Samuel, 
entering into the conversation, “though I ’lowed that 
the Ian’ belonged to General Bulley, over at Baxter 
Springs — he always paid me for lookin’ after 
things. ’ ’ 

“I have always entrusted the General with the 
management of the estate,” explained Julia pleas- 
antly. “Could you fix up a place for us, Mr. Tater?” 

“Wal, I ’dare, I reckon it can be done!” 

“We will be out tomorrow from the city,” she 
said. The engine began to toot as an announcement 
that enough wood had been worked up to carry the 

[ 205 ] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


train to Portsmouth. In a short time the train pulled 
up at the Union Station. The doctor and Mrs. 
Lamont put up at the Cotton Belt Hotel and ordered 
dinner at once. A pair of black-and-tans brought 
in the food, piling the dishes on the table in haste, 
as the mosquitoes were antagonistic. Fletcher helped 
her to some gravy filled with skippers, a wormy 
piece of meat, and a cup of coffee in which a pretty 
spider swam about in perfect tranquillity. Julia 
couldn’t stand it any longer and left the table. 
Fletcher laughed himself hoarse and hurried out to 
buy her some fruit. Next day they returned to the 
family mansion and occupied the two rear rooms still 
in good repair. 

The living room was large, somber, with high nar- 
row windows and a good view from the house, and 
the whole valley lying between it and Round Top 
Mountain. The fioor was poor, in holes near the 
door, and the furniture old yet venerable; several 
family pictures covered the walls and a fine center 
table with several rocking chairs completed the 
furnishings. 

The kitchen was not modern, but it was built and 
arranged for comfort. The fireplace with its kettles 
and pans served for a kitchen range. Several cane 
bottom chairs, a half bushel of dried potato peelings, 
about twenty pieces of tinware, a small table, an old 
clock, and odds and ends completed the picture. 

Lamont and Julia were obliged to cook their own 


WEDDING BELLS 


dinner, as the servant whom they had previously en- 
gaged was sick. Fletcher sat down at the table and 
beheld a splendid meal prepared for him ; corn bread, 
fat pork, molasses and coffee served with skim-milk. 
Noticing that he did not eat, she looked at him in- 
quiringly. He smiled and said : 

“I was wondering whether we had any skippers 
for company.’- 

“No, dear, I picked them all out of the food before 
serving.” 

They managed to eat a fairly good meal, when sud- 
denly there was a terrible crash. The plaster had 
fallen from the ceiling upon the table, breaking most 
of the dishes and covering them with dust. Fletcher 
hurried into the living room with his bride gasping 
for breath. 

“0 dear!” she moaned. “Let us leave this horri- 
ble place — niggers, mules, mosquitoes, frogs, bed- 
bugs, and last but not least, falling plaster. ’ ’ 

“I have promised to preach over at Lazytown 
Church next Sunday, darling.” 

“Will you leave for Smithfield on the following 
Monday?” 

“Yes,” he replied. 

On Sunday the inhabitants of Lazytown parish 
began to arrive. By ten o’clock about three hun- 
dred families had driven up in mule carts; a few 
prosperous ones owned the celebrated Ford car. 

Lamont preached a strong sermon, and all in all 
the service was a huge success with regard to Chris- 
[207] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


tian unity, inasmuch as nineteen denominations were 
present at the service. About eleven o^clock just as 
Fletcher was in the middle of the sermon Julia felt 
a strange sickness come over her. The atmosphere 
was permeated with a very disagreeable odor. Look- 
ing through a window she was astonished to see the 
rear end of a large mule backed up to the open win- 
dow near her. After the service she counted just two 
hundred and eighteen jackasses. She was glad when 
Lament took her to the Colonial Hotel, the best in 
Portsmouth for a square meal. 

Next morning a hungry man and woman boarded 
the limited No. 101, on the Coast Line Railway for 
Smithfield in the Northland. As she rolled away 
the man said : 

“Home again with me?” 

“Yes, dear,” she smiled, looking out of the window 
at the bleak, straggly country lying beyond. 

“When we get to Smithfield what is the first thing 
that you expect?” he laughed. 

“A full meal of ham and eggs!” Then she said: 
“You know, I’ve been fasting since we have been on 
our honeymoon.” 

“Kiss me, Julia!” 

“With my whole heart, Fletcher!” 

And the train roared and rolled toward the North- 
land ! 


[208] 


CHAPTER XXV 


THE EXODUS 

Upon returning to Smithfield, the Bishop and his 
bride found that the Episcopal residence had been 
vacated by the Crabbit family. In a few days Julia 
had the entire house redecorated, furnished, anJ 
ready for occupancy. Judge Skinner accepted their 
urgent invitation to live with them and closed up the 
old Skinner home. Ponsonby was retained in the 
family service with assurance of a suitable stipend and 
comfortable quarters for the rest of his days; his 
twenty-nine years of service was deeply appreciated 
by the Judge, who loved Alfred with sincere affection. 

Lamont was very busy attending to the mass of 
accumulated correspondence, while Julia and her, 
father, with the assistance of Ponsonby managed the 
temporalities. 

The Lenten season had arrived and the Lamont 
family after attending to their religious duties, lived 
a life of resignation and retirement. One evening 
while the family were roasting apples in front of a 
roaring fire, the Judge remarked that it was strange 
they should return to Smithfield so soon. 

‘ H ’ve been so busy in superintending the furnishing 
of our home, that I hadn’t thought much about that 
daddy dear ! ’ ’ 


[209] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


“Suppose you tell me something about that now 
little daughter as your work is nearly done, ^ ’ pondered 
the loving father patting her tiny hand. 

“Where shall I begin Fletcher dear?” she asked, 
smoothing the silvery hair affectionately. 

“Begin at the end and end at the beginning my 
adorable little girl, ” he answered winking at the Judge 
and Ponsonby. 

Julia looked into the flames, leaping on the grate, 
with a reminiscent expression hovering on the features 
of her lovely face; and related in a pleasing manner 
their recent experience in the Sunny South; the fra- 
grance of the negro, the temperament of the omni- 
present jackass, and glorious provincialism of a proud, 
if poor set of people. The Judge roared with laughter 
when his daughter went on relating the story of their 
trip from Suffolk to Portsmouth on the infant train. 
Then the Judge said: 

“Your description of Captain Buggy Lee is a 
scream ! ’ ’ 

“Or, perhaps a dream you know,” she parried 
playfully. 

The mail carrier was heard on the front porch. 
Ponsonby soon brought in a number of letters for the 
Bishop. In a few moments he laid down a large letter 
and said gravely: 

“I have just read a letter from the former Bishop 
of Rosemont saying that he has resigned his See. It 
seems that he has reached a point where he is no longer 
in sympathy with the august principles laid down by 

[ 210 ] 


THE EXODUS 


the great men of the Protestant Reformation; he no 
longer believes in the validity of the Orders and Sacra- 
ments, Doctrine and Discipline of this branch of the 
Kingdom of Christ on earth; therefore, he renounces 
the Church with all of her hallowed achievements and 
traditions in order to unite with a famous religious 
order of an alien faith with headquarters in Canada. 
He has already left for his new home in the far north. ’ ’ 

“He has done considerable damage, but thank the 
good Lord we are through with the sneaking Jesuit,” 
spoke up Skinner. ‘ ‘ He has been a hypocritical cuss 
all along ! ’ ^ 

“O’Grady was a member of an alien order before 
entering our Church, and Judson has gathered evi- 
dence sufficient to prove that he still retains his 
standing in that organization ; to the outside world he 
was a Protestant Bishop while at the same time he made 
secret reports to his ghostly superiors in priest-ridden 
Quebec,” added the Bishop sadly. 

“Is it possible for such a man to be elected Bishop 
dad ? ’ ’ she asked with a troubled look in her eyes. 

‘ ‘ Certainly my child, ’ ’ he murmured quietly, ‘ ‘ there 
are many good pure men in the ministry and a few 
without doubt, who would betray everything sacred 
and holy for a mess of pottage !” 

‘ ‘ What is the most dangerous menace to the Church 
to-day, Fletcher ? ” she inquired. 

“The fact that we are a divided house — Lincoln 
said on one occasion that a divided house could not 
stand ! ’ ’ 


[2II] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


‘ ‘ Can they ever run us all out of the Church 1 ’ ’ 

“No! We will stay in the Church, retain her Book 
of Common Prayer, Sacraments and Ritual, etc ; they 
will leave in time and organize a mean, miserable, 
silly insignificant, snobbish little sect I ’ ’ 

“So Foxville of Rosemont has left for another 
clime?” she laughed. 

“Well you know his health was poor and the 
ecclesiastical climate was detrimental to his delicate 
health. A few weeks rest among his black robed 
brothers will probably cure him, ’ ’ replied Lament with 
a faint smile. ‘ ‘ Ecker knoweth his own. ’ ’ 

“Well, Well!” cried Julia holding out another 
letter to her husband with a hand trembling with 
excitement. Lament took the missive and read aloud 
to his companions: 

‘ ‘ I have decided to leave the diocese of Smithfield for 
England on the boat leaving New York next Saturday. 
I have felt for some time, that a change of climate 
would be beneficial to my health ; that of the English 
coast line being peculiarly helpful to persons suffering 
from rheumatism. It will be very kind of you if you 
will send my letters dismissory for presentation to the 
Rt. Rev. Chauncy Moreton Crandall — Eppington, 
Bishop of the diocese of Depney, whose residence is 
situated at 3 Pondexter Mansions, Bepney. I would 
have called in person but Horace Bottomly and his 
brother August are here and intend to leave with me 
for dear old London — perhaps they will board with me 
when I secure a parish as I feel sorry for the two boys ! 

[ 212 ] 


THE EXODUS 


A short time ago Miss Sarah Wooley rang up and said 
that she would go with me if I would engage her as 
organist of my English parish ; she promised to accept 
the position for fifty pounds a year and I engaged her. 
She expects to marry Father Reinkins as soon as we 
all get to England as she is sure he is a comely, agree- 
able fellow.” Prettyman’s letter ended. 

“What are you going to do with Timothy?” she 
quizzed. 

“I have already appointed him Archdeacon of 
Smithfield,” Fletcher added, “after his promise to 
reform and act like a gentleman. ^ ’ 

“He will never stay long in the diocese,” spoke up 
the Judge. “He will eventually leave for some 
English curacy.” 

“Who will be the new rector of Warrentown, 
Fletcher?” 

‘ ‘ The Rev. George Dolittle, ’ ^ he answered. ‘ ‘ Do you 
know the latest news ? ’ ’ 

“No, tell us!” 

“Hardwick is leaving Rosedale.” 

“So they ran him out at last,” she said beginning 
to cry. 

“ It is not so bad as that my darling, for the brethren 
of Rosemont have elected him their Bishop by a large 
majority ; and the splendid part of the whole program 
was Hardwick’s devotion to his work — he in fact 
never asked a single soul, directly or indirectly, to vote 
for him.” 

“Is it not a glorious vindication of a good man?” 

[213] 


ARCHDEACON PRETTYMAN IN POLITICS 


she declared rising with her eyes shining like stars. 
“Mrs. Westman has a heavy dose to swallow now, as 
her social position is inferior to that of Mrs. 
Hardwick. ’ ’ 

“I must make several appointments soon,” broke 
in Lament. ‘ ‘ Dean Goodman has resigned to accept a 
curacy in the diocese of Sandwich, just sixty-nine 
miles from Worcester, England; Dorsey will make a 
good man for the place and Pott can succeed him and 
manage to carry on the work with the help of young 
Fast, recently ordained in the diocese of Stepney. I 
have several things to attend to down town so I had 
better leave the peace and comfort of this heirloom of 
the Skinner generations,” he said rising from the 
great chair and hurrying out. 

The day was far spent for it was near evening. The 
golden rays of the setting sun began to dash and 
frolic in the western sky. The shadow of the Cathedral 
tower began to lengthen. The deep, narrow river 
rolled on, glorified by the splashing, flickering light; 
and gates of brass, burnished and glittering, in front 
of palatial homes, opened and shut like doors of flame. 
The beautiful gardens in the rear of the Bishop’s 
house, wet with heavy dew, began to pour, from starlit 
shrub and shining leaf a fragrance for all in the im- 
mediate vicinity. The streets and squares were almost 
deserted after the strife and toil of the day. Scenes 
of peace and contentment were mingled in every home 
and street, for tranquillity had at last come to the 
storm-tossed diocese of Smithfield. 

[214] 


THE EXODUS 


A mere slip of a girl, clad in snowy white, with a 
large hat hanging down her back stood among the 
flowers and ferns of the Lamont garden; large blue 
dreamy eyes shielded by a pair of elegant lashes; a 
lovely head covered with a halo of golden hair, touched 
with dashes of red; a pure, honest face, and a form 
of supple grace and beauty, all resting upon a pair of 
pretty feet completed the dream. 

The dream girl listened, for some one was drawing 
near. It was Lamont her beloved, who placed his arm 
about her just as the last ray of the sun, hung in de- 
flance in the sky, and said affectionately : 

“Julia, are you glad you have taken this step?’’ 

“Yes dear,” she answered laying her golden head 
on his strong shoulder. “I’ll go with you all the 
way.” 

“Thank you Julia, I’ll — well you know I will try 
to make you happy,” he said softly kissing her fair 
brow. 

“Yes,” she cried, “beloved ! The idol of my dreams ! 
My husband ! God has protected you from all of your 
enemies and given you to me pure and unsullied ! ’ ’ 

The deep river roared and plunged in the distance, 
in its mad race to the sea, while a man and woman 
knelt in a certain garden in the city, and returned 
thanks to an invisible King. 


[ 215 ] 




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